


Planet of the Dinosaurs

by Davechicken, Penumbris (Davechicken), Penumbris (Shadow_Side), Shadow_Side



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: BDSM, Interrogation, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 13:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 223,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Penumbris, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Side/pseuds/Penumbris, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Side/pseuds/Shadow_Side
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captured by Wraith, McKay and Kolya are forced to work together in order to escape. What they don't realise is that spending twenty-four hours on the Planet of the Dinosaurs might end up having something of an effect on them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Escape from the Planet of the Dinosaurs

**Author's Note:**

> First, an introduction from the authors…
> 
> Like so many good things in life, Planet of the Dinosaurs was one great big accident. One night, somewhat bored, the writers sometimes known separately as Davechicken and Shadow Side, and collectively as Penumbris, decided to RP with their main SGA muses – McKay and Kolya, respectively. Seeing as Shadow Side had started the previous RP, it was Davechicken’s turn.
> 
> We assure you… it was never meant to turn out like this. But 60,000 words (and counting!) and 7.5 months later, we realise our muses may have a problem.
> 
> So here is the first part of the World’s Most Unexpected RP. For the most part – i.e. aside from the occasional bit of plot-poking and some grammatical tidying-up – it remains as we wrote it – 100% spontaneous. This, as you will see, explains a lot. At first, we wrote it in IRC. Now we write it in Gmail. For one night only, we wrote it in AIM, but AIM is restrictive and curbs our dear muses’ ability to talk each other to death.
> 
> The first part of this story is rated PG-13 - maybe R, but we've listed it as NC-17, because Part Two is well underway...
> 
> And because we are happy happy geek people, we’ll begin as we did, back on March 16th, when things suddenly got interesting…
> 
> Session Start: Wed Mar 16 23:42:27 2005  
> [23:49] McKay: [where are we?]  
> [23:49] Kolya: [*confused*]  
> [23:49] McKay: [the muses, where are they]  
> [23:50] McKay: [sceneset]  
> [23:50] Kolya: [i... don't know. do you have any requests?]  
> [23:50] McKay: [uhm....]  
> [23:52] Kolya: [*braindead*]  
> [23:58] * McKay is sitting slumped against the wall…

McKay is sitting slumped against the wall, his knees drawn up into his chest, his forehead all but touching them. He still aches and tingles intermittently, and he wriggles his extremities occasionally, but mostly all he does is moan quietly in pain. Or, quietly for him.

Kolya comes to a moment later, reflexes kicking in at once, partly in reaction to the strange after-effects of the stunner that still rush through his body. He pushes himself into a sitting position, blinking in the dimness, until he focuses on... "Doctor McKay?"

McKay looks up from his curled position, extreme dislike and unhappiness immediately apparent on his rather expressive face. "Congratulations, Commander, you have successfully mastered the art of applying names to faces," he says, then drops his head again.

Kolya gives him a coldly unamused look, though still hinted with more than a little confusion. "Where exactly are we?" Not yet trying to stand, he resigns himself to looking around, in an attempt to work things out.

"What does it look like? Disney World?" Rodney sighs, eyes closed still - not even dignifying him with looking up. In here, Kolya is no threat at all. "Limbo. A Wraith hive ship. Or a very close approximation to one."

...Which is not somewhere Kolya has been before. His usually impassive expression becomes just that - impassive, confusion fading now he knows where he is. "Why us?" He's not sure whether McKay will answer - but the question needs to be asked. In the meantime, a quick check reveals him to be, predictably, without any of his usual weapons. _Typical._

McKay shrugs. "Generations of philosophers with nothing better to do than make statements into algebra and debate the real meaning of the verb ‘to be’ haven't answered that, so why should I be able to? Now can we get to the part where we sit and contemplate our impending doom in silence, as I feel a little too tired to rant properly and I was saving my lungs for the screaming-as-I-died thing."

Kolya sighs, dearly wishing for a knife and a nice dark room right about now. "You know what I mean, Doctor. And I would suggest you calm down, or you will be screaming long before the Wraith return."

Rodney glares. "I'll panic and scream as much as I want to. It might make me feel better. Although how anything can make you feel better when you know you're going to die is beyond me." He's looked up now, to address him, but is still curled up - possibly in pain, possibly in fear. "I assume they attacked us and we were stunned. Where the others are, I have no idea. I don't know if they are still alive. I woke a few minutes before you and that's all I know."

Something flickers in Kolya's eyes, though it's hard to tell what. "You would be better off remaining calm and helping me to find a way out of here."

"There is none. Not unless you magically have a small army up your sleeve. Or a sonic screwdriver, for that matter. But even if I managed to get us out of this cage, we have no weapons and we're likely in deep space. We're doomed. Not to mention I wouldn't trust you as far as I could throw you."

"Nor would I trust you, Doctor," Kolya throws back, fighting the urge to give plenty of examples from past experience to back this up. "But if we want to live, both of us are going to have to attempt some semblance of co-operation. And trying to escape is better than waiting to die."

"Don't you think they've already thought of how we could escape? We have to wait for Colonel Sheppard. He will know to find us here. Or, find me anyway."

"Oh, yes, of course. The noble **Colonel** Sheppard.” The commander doesn’t sound entirely surprised to learn that the once-major has been promoted. “Bursting in to rescue his fellow terrorist without thought for how this will worsen the situation with the Wraith." The words are level, but there's more than a little agitation behind them. "For all you know, Sheppard is dead. Or worse. You have no one to rely on but yourself... and me." Which is not something he expected to be saying any time... ever.

McKay glowers, nostrils flaring. "His **friend** and team mate, thank you very much. Well, when he comes to save me, I will tell him you refuse to be saved on the grounds of conscientious objection and we'll leave you to die happily. Colonel Sheppard is not dead. He is coming to get me."

"Maybe he is. But he could just as easily be lying dead somewhere, shot or drained by our mutual enemies. And then what will you do? Die here because you're too proud to work with me?" His glare darkens at this point, possibilities beginning to come to mind.

McKay rolls his eyes as he looks over at Kolya. "What would you do if I managed to get us out of here? Fight them with your death glare and garrotte them with your bootlace?"

Kolya gives him a deeply scathing look. "I am trained in hand-to-hand combat, you know." His tone isn't boastful - but it is definitely self-assured.

"Wraith," Rodney says. Waits. Says again, with more emphasis. "Wr-aittthhh."

The look blends to a glare. "Congratulations, Doctor, you have managed to identify our enemies." He wonders at once, hearing his own words, if McKay's sarcastic tone is contagious. Hopefully **not,** even if evidence suggests otherwise. "Now, do you want to sit here and wait to die, or do you want a chance to survive?"

McKay looks at him. Thinking. Hard. For a very long time.

Kolya eventually sighs. "Doctor. This is not a complicated question. And unless you want to die slowly, in exquisite agony, as the life is sucked from you, then I suggest you pull yourself together."

"And if they find me trying to escape it will be even slower and more painful. Plus I don't want to be seen dead with you, and you can't get out of here without me, so you can stop with the insinuations."

"Doctor, I think you will find that unless you start thinking straight, you **will** be seen dead with me. 'Dead' being the key word, here." He's starting to get a little irritated, wondering how best to play this.

"What have you got on you?"

Not exactly the response he was expecting, but most likely a good thing. Calmly, Kolya checks his pockets - of which the khaki appears to have several. "Without my weapons..." He withdraws two small objects - a Genii rank pin of some kind, and what appears to be a single bullet.

McKay unfolds, all single-minded intent, and tries to take them out of Kolya's hands without so much as an if-you-please. "I may be able to use these..."

Kolya doesn't argue - after all, if he wants to get out of here, he needs McKay's help. "You have a plan, Doctor?" he prompts.

"Maybe. If you're quiet and let me work," he says, going over to examine the door.

Standing, Kolya obliges for now, though he makes sure to keep lurking in the near background, watching carefully.

McKay turns back. "Fire?" he asks, fingers running over the back of what he assumes must be the lock, or something similar. With the gunpowder and... it would be a long shot...

Resisting the urge to pace, Kolya continues to let McKay work, not interrupting the man's train of thought, until the question arises. "I doubt we have any way to light one," he remarks.

Great. Not even two sticks. Well... "We're going to have to use this in percussion... I can blow the panel with this,” he says, waving with the bullet, “and then start to work on the other side..."

"Then get started," says Kolya, flatly. "We have no way to know when the Wraith will return."

McKay glares at him. "Do you know how to manipulate this technology? No? Then I suggest you stop telling me my job and start holding this still," he says, starting to prise open the bullet.

Resisting the growing urge to let himself lose his cool, Kolya stalks over to help McKay - saying nothing, but not bothering to keep his expression guarded.

Rodney couldn't care less what people look like, as he is capable of being completely insensitive to others' feelings and rarely hides his own dislike of anyone. "Higher," he says grumpily, squinting and jamming the pin in the casing as hard as he can - as he can dare, anyway, not wanting to blow his fingers off. Finally he gets it open, then leans through the door to pour the fine powder into a crack in the lock. "Boot," he says next.

Kolya gives him a careful - and still somewhat hostile - look. "What exactly **is** your plan?" he half-asks, half-demands. Because old habits die hard.

McKay is holding his hand out for the boot. He rolls his eyes. "Getting us out of here. Now unless you know a better way.... I suggest you stop questioning me and start doing as I say."

Kolya never truly stops questioning anyone, but he is too interested in not dying to argue properly. He gives McKay one last unamused look, and then offers him the boot, watching to see where this is all going.

McKay leans through the door again, covering his face with one hand, palm to his face (John had, actually, drilled some things into him) and smacked at the join, over and over with the boot until.... *frrrrrkt*.

The commander smiles. Things are looking up. He lays a hand on McKay's shoulder, in genuine - though still mildly intimidating - congratulation. "Good work, Doctor," he remarks.

McKay stiffens almost immediately, the touch making him shudder and stand perfectly still. He manages to mechanically hand him the boot. "...I'm not done yet," he says. "The panel’s open. I still need to override the controls. Give me back the pin." And get the fuck away.

Kolya retrieves his somewhat necessary footwear, before handing McKay the pin - knowing instinctively that he's got the Doctor on edge again. Which makes him feel better.

McKay shudders dramatically. "And please. Don't touch me again. Do you touch everyone you hate?" he asks, jamming the pin into the mechanism and hissing when it electrocutes him, fingers immediately in his mouth.

Kolya gives the boot time to stop smouldering before he puts it back on. "I was merely being... supportive," he says, though it's clear Kolya is not exactly the most supportive Genii ever. He smirks a little as Rodney is electrocuted, silently wishing for his nice dark rooms again.

Rodney glares over his fingers. "Mmmftophmht," he says, which clearly is McKay for, well stop it. He turns back, fiddles some more. And... there… and... one of the doors opens part way. "Well, quickly now," he says, hand out of mouth now.

Kolya follows at once, switching straight into full military mode without a second thought. "Do you know where we need to get to?" he asks, staring into the dimness beyond the cell, watching for movement.

"I don't know which holding cell we are in, or even how to get out anyway. If we're in orbit we're doomed... unless you can fly a drone ship?" Rodney’s mind rushes over the possibilities, a thousand and one terrible plans at once.

"Not technically, but no doubt we could work it out," Kolya replies, fairly positively.

McKay snorts. "And you're going to karate-chop any Wraith that comes our way, right?" he asks, heading towards a corridor where he can attempt to fix their relative position onboard the ship.

"Naturally." Kolya sounds quite confident about this - though he has never actually faced a Wraith before. This is not a problem in his eyes. This is merely a **challenge**.

"Fine. You can die first and I will live smug in that knowledge for all of several minutes." He looks around, rubbing a hand over his face. "That way to escape routes. That way to hangar bay. I think. Take your pick.”

"Do we have any other option besides taking a ship?" Kolya asks.

Rodney frowns, running through the schematics in his head. "If we are on the ground... yes. If not..." No ring devices. No Stargate. No transporters he knew of. No... oh. Beams. "Unless we are close to the surface, possibly. I could beam us."

"Is that a viable alternative? If it is... then lead the way. If not... the hangar. Quickly." In all honesty, Kolya doesn't mind **how** they get off the ship, so long as they **do**.

"I can't tell you for certain until I know where we are. If we make our way to..." Eyes closed, running along corridors behind his eyes, "the room down there," he says, nodding to their left, "I can work out whereabouts on the ship we are. And also where in the galaxy too."

Kolya nods. "All right. Let's go." And he sets off, staying close - trying to maintain a balance between keeping an eye on Rodney, and being in with a chance of preventing him from being killed should any of the Wraith turn up.

McKay knows some fieldcraft, it's true, but little for being on an enemy base, and not near a convenient bush or tree. And he forgets, from time to time, what he's supposed to be doing to keep unobtrusive. "What was that?"

Kolya hears the... whatever it is, reacting at once. Instinctively, he moves closer to the wall, pushing McKay against it without a second thought, watching the darkened corridor ahead.

Rodney doesn't like being pushed and his hands come up immediately, eyes wide with sudden panic he tries to bite down. A hiss of worry and annoyance comes out before he can help it, and then he's looking worriedly over to where Kolya is.

Kolya throws him a sudden glare, before turning to look back ahead of them. "Relax, Doctor, or you'll get us both killed," he says, voice virtually a whisper. Then he falls instantly silent as, blending from the darkness, a single, pale figure emerges - all white hair and threatening eyes - a Wraith, bearing a long-barrelled stunner.

McKay starts to shake a little, pressing back into the wall as though he thought it could give. He looks helplessly at Kolya, all but begging him to save him. He has nothing. No guns. No anything... Just.. Kolya. And that is possibly the single most distressing thing he's encountered so far.

Kolya actually smirks at the distressed look in Rodney's eyes, but only for a moment. Then he turns, at the same instant in which the Wraith spots both of them. Stunner raised, it charges - as, reacting quickly, Kolya moves towards this new foe. A stun-bolt rushes right past him, barely missing, before he makes a sudden, upward swipe, catching the barrel of the stunner.

McKay tries hard not to cover his head with his hands and curl into a foetal ball. His arms stop halfway up, and he suddenly yells, "DUCK!" as another Wraith appears, aiming at Kolya.

The commander dives low, using the momentum to wrench the stunner out of the Wraith's hands as he does so. Then, with a quick roll, he has the weapon aimed back up at its former owner. Some people might have chosen the moment to pun, or vow bloody death on all Wraith. Kolya, however, merely fires, stun-bolt hitting the Wraith squarely.

McKay yelps as the second Wraith's shot misses Kolya and hits him in the foot, nearly knocking him off them in the process. He staggers, hands out to support himself, yelling in shock and distress.

Back on his feet, Kolya barely has time to register what's going on before the barrel of the second Wraith's stunner smashes into his shoulder. He gasps in pain, but doesn't halt, bringing his own appropriated stunner up a moment later. His first shot misses - mostly because of the distracting pain in his arm - but the second manages to catch the Wraith in the head.

McKay is hopping on one foot, whimpering in pain and not at all happy that Kolya's armed. He looks at the second stunner- which is the other side of Kolya, and chews his bottom lip.

Partly out of caution, partly out of vindictiveness, Kolya proceeds to shoot both of the fallen Wraith again, before turning his gaze - and, somewhat unfortunately, the weapon - in Rodney's direction. "Are you all right, Doctor?" he asks.

McKay shudders, shaking his head. "Perfectly fine, if you consider being immobile in one leg ‘all right.’"

"No. I would consider that to be problematic."

"Oh wonderful," he says, nodding at the leg he isn't putting any weight on. "Then Houston, we have a problem."

"How long do the effects of this weapon last?" Kolya asks, much happier now that he's armed again. "Because if I end up having to carry you..."

McKay looks positively sick at the thought. "A few hours," he admits, gingerly leaning some, then none, then some of his weight on the leg to test it. "Not carrying me will work just fine."

Kolya gives him an unimpressed glance. "You'd prefer to stay here and hope no more of the Wraith turn up?"

"I can use the wall if you don't run," Rodney snipes back.

Kolya continues to look unimpressed. "You will slow us down," he points out.

"Carrying me will slow you down too, you moron."

"Fine. Then start walking," Kolya says, more than a little hostility in his tone, before he sets off. Ever-vindictive, he doesn't exactly stay helpfully slow - but he doesn't run ahead, either.

McKay hobbles after, leaning heavily into the wall. It's clear he can't keep up with a normal pace at all. "Hey, if you leave me behind you'll never get out of here."

Kolya is well aware of that. He's on the brink of moving to half-carry McKay whether the doctor likes it or not. In the meantime, he doesn't turn at Rodney's words, merely throwing a response over his shoulder. "And if you insist on hopping everywhere, it will take us hours to get anywhere useful."

"So I should let you stand close enough to stab a knife through my ribs? I still have some sense of self-preservation, thank you."

"As you are well-aware, Doctor, I am without my knife at the moment," Kolya points out. "And you know, too, that if we don't work together, it will be extremely difficult to get off this ship alive."

"I still don't want you near me," Rodney says, with evident dislike. Worse than dislike. Disgust.

Kolya shakes his head. "You Atlanteans are so sickeningly proud," he remarks, cold.

"You Genii are so bloody-mindedly stupid," Rodney counters, hissing as he lands a little more painfully than he expected.

Kolya ignores him, smirking a little as he hears Rodney's new hiss of pain, and not bothering to slow down. He's still careful though, watching the route ahead, trying to stay ready for anything.

"He'll shoot you as soon as see you, you know," Rodney says, even though it's not true.

At this, Kolya glances over his shoulder. "You mean the colonel?" he asks, sharply. "I'd like to think he'd be grateful that I helped you get out of here." Which is true, although what he'd **really** like to think is that fate might give him a chance to repay Sheppard for a great deal of injustice.

McKay trips a little, scowling and cursing under his breath. "He'll think this is your fault."

"Then he will, once again, be mistaken," Kolya throws back, really cold now.

"Oh like if you hadn't been a bunch of backstabbing bastards we wouldn't **be here** in the first pla... AH, that hurts..." he says, stopping to try to get rid of the cramp.

"We are not having this argument again, Doctor," comes the clipped reply. "And if you really think you can keep going in this condition... you're more arrogant than I thought."

Rodney closes his eyes against the pain, holding onto the wall until some blood returns to his brain. "...Fine. Go on without me. See how far you get."

"I don't think so," Kolya sighs, exasperated. "You need me, I need you. Neither of us is going to get out of here alone. I don't know the technology, and your combat skills leave a lot to be desired. So I suggest you re-think your priorities and let me help you."

McKay looks distinctly unhappy, the fear showing through. He can still remember... letting the plan out of the bag, over something so small as a cut. Still remember them all trapped in the underground vault, at the end of his gun, John thinking for his life. He wants to live. He does. He's just not sure he wants to if... Kolya helps. "....Fine."

Without a word, Kolya turns and goes over to McKay, his expression blank, save for a flicker of victory lurking in his eyes. Keeping the stunner useable in one hand, balanced against his hip, he takes Rodney's arm around his shoulder, supporting him.

McKay closes his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. It's... a defeat and he knows it. A surrender, of a kind - something simple, but so much more significant than it should be. "Bear left," he says, hobbling as he tries to find a suitable pace.

Kolya continues walking, attentive to how McKay moves and making a genuine - if slightly self-serving - effort to help him keep going.

"Stop. There's likely to be Wraith moving through here. You should check," he says, nodding to the door ahead.

Kolya nods back, and leaves McKay supported by a nearby wall, hefting the stunner as he moves ahead to scout the area.

"Get down a bit," Rodney hisses quietly, "It's safer."

Kolya does so, stalking silently forwards, staring around in search of... Wraith. He spots one, moving towards them, armed and patrolling its ship, not yet aware it is being watched. Kolya moves in, edging to a point where he can get a clear shot...

McKay is shuddering again, eyes closed and counting under his breath. If he was only mobile, and armed... instead he's forced to wait. To watch **Kolya**. It's... a new and unusual form of torture.

The Wraith, meanwhile, is completely oblivious. There's no alarm sounded, no reason to worry as it patrols its way along a relatively remote part of the ship.

Smirking at the ease of this, Kolya waits for the Wraith to draw closer, hidden carefully within the shadows, stunner up. He's practically basking in the power of the moment, eyes glittering as he finally fires, catching the Wraith still unaware.

There's a surprised hiss before the _slump_ , and Rodney hobbles over furiously, determined to get a weapon himself.

Whilst Kolya doesn't want Rodney armed, he knows that they need to have as much defensive potential as possible, so he doesn't actually prevent the doctor from taking the fallen stunner. He does, however, say, "Watch where you point that thing, Doctor. Don't let your feelings cloud your judgement."

"I've never taken a weapon to **you** ," Rodney points out, using it as a temporary walking stick. "We need to look out that..." nods, "window there."

"And I would advise you not to break the habit," Kolya replies, unashamedly. Nevertheless, he offers Rodney a hand, to help him over to the window.

McKay takes it, feeling a little less uncomfortable now he's armed. A little more confident. He peers through the window, chewing on his lip. "In low orbit. I think the beam could work from here, if I can make it reverse..."

"Excellent. Where to now?" The question has purpose, yes, but the commander is also using it to cover the shock of looking out of that window. Kolya has never actually been in space before, never looked down and seen a whole world circle below. It's certainly... thought-provoking.

"There's two control rooms on a ship this size, from what I could tell. Both of them likely to be heavily guarded. We can't just take them by force," Rodney says. Stares at Kolya. He looks perhaps a little longer than he should. "Do you know it?" he asks, nodding to the planet.

"I can't tell," Kolya admits, still watching the planet. "I've never seen a world from this perspective." The moment passes eventually, and he turns back to McKay, expression businesslike again. "What do you suggest we do, then?" he asks, thinking carefully.

"I don't know it either," Rodney admits, then looks to the stars. "But I might be able to work out where we are when we land." When. Not if. When. "We need a plan, of course. Preferably one with minimal limb- and blood-loss."

"What we need," Kolya says, flatly, "is bait." And, with a particularly effective smirk, he turns to stare meaningfully at Rodney.

"No," Rodney snaps, immediately.

"Do you want to get out of this alive?" The question returns once again, ever-serious.

"And me being bait will mean I live... how?"

"Because I'll be shooting anything that goes for you," Kolya replies, levelly.

"And this makes me feel better because...?"

"...I'm a very **good** shot."

McKay just stares at him. He seems to be fighting the urge to say something, his lips almost moving then... something settles in his eyes. It's the same look he got when he stepped into the light from the shaft, facing Kolya and agreeing to come along. It's Rodney's really brave face. His jaw is almost but not quite firm. "Try to not let them shoot me in the head, or I'll never get the controls working."

Kolya nods. "The intention is not to let them shoot you at all," he says, offering McKay a hand to help him move again.

"And how likely is that?" he grouses, trying not to lean on Kolya now, as a matter of pride. "You do realise this probably won't work, don't you?"

"This has to work, McKay. Doubt won't help matters. Now... which way?"

Rodney nods. "There. Three corridors down. Five doors in."

So off they go again, moving along the passageways of the Wraith ship, Kolya staying constantly alert for any random patrollers.

It doesn't take all that long to get there, and Rodney automatically starts giving the field gesture for Kolya to stop and listen.

Immediately, Kolya stops, pausing against the wall, keeping the stunner ready in case any more of the Wraith show up.

McKay listens, frowning intensely. He's not hiding his displeasure one bit. He closes his eyes and counts to three. Twice. On the third time round, he loses it halfway through and opens the door to charge inside.

If he had more time, Kolya would be enjoying this. But there's more at stake, so he resigns himself to a quiet smirk as he waits for their 'distraction' to work.

Fortunately, there's only two Wraith, who look rather surprised to see a Human scientist storming in and struggling to duck and roll and crawl and everything he's been taught behind minimal cover, all at once, whilst screaming something that sounds somewhat akin to ‘AAAAAAHH!’

The smirk gets broader. Kolya gives the Wraith several rather long seconds to react, before he bursts through the door, opening fire at once.

McKay is screaming something very abusive from the direction of a panel that he's cowering behind, hands over his head and head between his knees. If he had any common sense he'd be quiet and not call attention to himself - but he's just been acting as bait, so he doesn't think he **has** any common sense left.

**BLAMBLAMBLAM** and one of the Wraith goes down, juddering as a volley of stun bolts crash into him. By the time Kolya spins to aim at the second, however, it has moved to take cover, and the commander is forced to take shelter of his own as a series of stun bolts come rocketing past.

McKay squeaks and demands to know why Kolya hasn't finished yet, because doesn't he **know** they are all telepathic and oh god they are so doomed. He looks around for the other Wraith's weapon, eyeing up the situation and wondering if he dare make a dash for it. It seems the Sheppard thing to do...

Ignoring McKay's series of distress noises, Kolya leaps back up, firing several fresh volleys before returning to cover, working out the best way to get closer to that damned Wraith...

"Cover me!" Rodney yells, and tries to barrel roll across the floor and pick up the weapon while not being knocked out or shot at. For a scientist who's spent his life behind a desk, he doesn't do all that badly.

Kolya leaps up immediately, providing covering fire as Rodney goes for the gun. It's at that point that he spots the movement somewhat dangerously close to the doctor. "McKay!" he shouts, at once, "on your right!"

McKay turns the weapon in that direction at once, firing furiously with his eyes jammed shut, glued to the spot.

It's really quite a delicious shot. The Wraith makes its move a second too late, and instead of whatever it was planning, it instead gets a faceful of stunner energy, going down with a heavy THUD. Own weapon still held at the ready, in case more turn up, Kolya looks over at McKay, wondering if he's planning on opening his eyes any time soon.

Rodney stands, shaking a little, until he realises he's not, actually, dead. Or stunned. But dead would be worse. Except maybe not because at least he wouldn't know, but if he was stunned maybe they'd just feed on him right then and there while he's helpless and can do nothing but think and watch and oh GOD but he almost died AGAIN and he opens his eyes, shaking ever so slightly, hand flexing on the weapon unconsciously.

Kolya continues to watch him, breathing slowly returning to normal now that the fight appears to be over. Relaxing a little, he says, "Calm down, Doctor. You're not dead yet."

"No, but that doesn't mean my life expectancy is all that stellar," Rodney says, shuddering and drawing the weapon in close, almost protectively.

"We will get out of this," Kolya replies, calmly. "Now... I believe there was a reason we came bursting in here?" He walks over to Rodney as he speaks, offering a hand to help him.

McKay nods. "Yes, of course," he says, holding onto Kolya roughly before indicating the direction he wishes to be helped to. "I think we're..." he trails off, staring at screens and pressing buttons, the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration.

Kolya watches, waiting, hoping that this plan is going to work. He glances around every now and then, aware that more Wraith could likely show up soon.

McKay holds up a hand to shut Kolya up, even though he isn't saying anything. It's just second nature now to do this when he's struggling with something complicated, and then he's... "Oh. Wonderful. We're so totally screwed. If I recall correctly - and I usually do - we're in orbit above Jurassic Park."

The tone of Rodney's voice is clear. Alas, the problem itself seems to have dropped into McKay-ese, which never helps. Kolya resists the urge to snap at him and merely says, "and that means **what** , exactly?"

"Dinosaurs. Big..." He's looked up now, gesturing to indicate something taller than him... "Oh for... Really big reptiles with a taste for small, crunchy mammals. You get it now? We're going to be eaten one way or another..."

Admittedly, this does not sound good, but Kolya is not going to be stopped now. "We'll have to take our chances down there," he says, firmly. "We need to acquire one of those darts and get off this ship, and we need to do it soon."

"Because that's the easiest plan we've had so far..." Rodney says, but gestures for Kolya to come over and help him anyway. "Have you ever seen a Tyrannosaurus Rex anyway? King of the lizards?"

"No," Kolya answers, flatly, as he helps Rodney start to move again.

"Not good. Really, really not good. They can flip over cars and open toilets and bite you in half - even if that movie wasn't especially realistic anyway, the science in it was a total bunk..." Talking keeps his mind off the impending doom somewhat.

Kolya lets him talk, not bothering to ask for any kind of clarifications, waiting until the verbal onslaught pauses before speaking again. "Which is the quickest way?"

McKay nods. "Straight down there. It should avoid the most frequented areas too."

"Good." Kolya sets off, supporting McKay as they go, other hand still keeping the stunner close.

It doesn't take all that long - a few moments pressed against the bulkheads as they listen and wait for the Wraith to pass by in neighbouring corridors, braced for them heading this way - but eventually they are there, and Rodney's sore from hopping and grousing about it.

Kolya has been quiet for a while, but on arriving at the hangar bay, and letting go of McKay so he can check the area, there is a definite sense of irritation. "Must you be so very negative?" he throws across.

"Only when faced with certain doom. It's a bad habit of mine, I know," he says, shaking his leg out. "Really must stop getting into it."

"This does not qualify as certain doom," replies Kolya, levelly. "We are almost out of here."

"Yes, sure, when you steal a DART. Who do you think you are, General O'Neill or Rambo?"

"'We,' Doctor," Kolya corrects, with more than a slight smirk. "When **we** steal a dart."

"Right. Well, you kill all the Wraith and I'll just hotwire it. Don't worry, I did this all the time in my delinquent youth."

"I have complete faith in your ability to get one of these ships working before they kill us both," Kolya states, very flatly. "Now... if we move carefully, I believe we can reach **that** dart without being spotted."

McKay pulls a face. "Just so long as you know that any dying is completely your fault," he says, but nods at him to continue.

The dart in question is nicely shielded by a couple of others, lying on the edge of the huge bay. Slowly, Kolya begins to move out towards it, supporting McKay as he goes, using the various other ships to provide cover from any Wraith who may be watching.

McKay bites his tongue hard to keep from making a noise as they move - he's getting rather stiff all down one side with all the awkward movement, and he’s going to get cramps or possibly a permanent limp and hunchback if this keeps up and then who will want him, because it won't be like an impressive war wound, oh no, it will be Old Cripple McKay and... why are they stealing a dart again? He has no idea even how to get into it once they're there.

Eventually, they reach the ship in question, and Kolya takes a good look at it. Up close, these darts suddenly look so very... small. But a plan is a plan. He gestures in its direction, obviously expecting McKay to start working on the vessel at once.

McKay mutters something under his breath about sonic screwdrivers and then turns to glare. "Give me a hand up then." He places his stunner down, unable to hold onto it and work at the same time in such a cramped space.

Kolya helps Rodney climb up, but he glares right back, simply because anything else would be either backing down or counterproductive.

McKay clings to the side of the machine, trying to... ah there's the hydraulics equivalent, but to override them without ruining them so they die from exposure to vacuum, yes that's important and... so is not falling face first into the cockpit with your legs in the air when it finally opens. Oh well.

Straight-faced, Kolya waits for McKay, keeping a close watch on the surrounding area in the meantime, stunner held up again. Unlike the good doctor, he has **no** intention of putting his down.

McKay finally squirms enough to get inside, and starts staring at the commands. "Get in," he hisses lowly, "as soon as I get this running I'm going."

Kolya scrambles up after him, finding the cockpit to be quite remarkably small. "I am assuming you can work out how to fly this?" he asks.

"It'd be easier if Colonel Sheppard was here, but as I'm the most intelligent person in this galaxy, if **I** can't work it out, you're really screwed." He leans over, ignoring personal space entirely, far too driven by self preservation to care about anything else right now.

Kolya just about manages to let the comment about Sheppard slide, if only because causing any kind of scene here and now would be dangerously foolish. It's just as he's about to ask how much longer this is likely to take that Kolya spots the movement nearby. Raising the stunner - which he's still holding onto, half-outside the open cockpit - he says, quietly, "McKay... we have company."

"I know, I know I... don't talk to me and deal with it," he says, slamming on buttons and... they start moving forwards, at a little faster than a walking pace, the canopy still open and no main engine thrust yet. He curses and presses more buttons, causing all manner of noises and... the hatch door to start opening...

By this point, Kolya is half-leaning out of the cockpit, opening fire on a trio of Wraith who have just spotted the scene unfolding in the dart. Their own weapons raised, they begin to advance, firing back. "Speed would be somewhat important here!" Kolya shouts, ducking into the cockpit again in order to take cover.

"I'm TRYING, can you not see me trying? No, I thought I'd stop off at a drive-by first and get us some in-flight SNACKS!" Rodney yells, pressing buttons more desperately. A shot glances off the hatch, making a horrible noise just as it starts to lower, and a deep, low rumble that may very well be engines starts below them. "I... yes! I have it!"

Kolya manages to get inside just in time, making sure to drag the stunner in with him - even though it takes up rather a lot of the limited space - seconds before spotting several more Wraith come running into the hangar. "Good work, Doctor," he says. And then it dawns on him - yes, this is a **spaceship** and yes, they're about to be **in space**. Well. This is a day for... new experiences.

"You can say that when we successfully crash on the planet with the even bigger people-eating monsters," Rodney says, trying to steer. By now other Wraith are jumping into the other darts, and Rodney panics, hitting weapons buttons and blowing something up - along with a few Wraith, but no ships - as they are suddenly out of the hive ship and hurtling towards the planet. 

"Oh god, oh god, this is such an unbelievably bad idea," Rodney says, attempting an abortive barrel-roll which would turn even the illustrious Sheppard's stomach.

There are a lot of things about this that Kolya doesn't care for - notably, the part where there is nothing whatsoever that he can do. And then there is the sudden lurch in his stomach, both at the movement, and at the sight of the planet, racing closer. He says no more, letting Rodney concentrate, for once.

"This is the part where I'm in a spaceship and the most experienced pilot and..." there's really no words, really, because he's **flying a Wraith ship** and he wasn't even that good with an Atlantean one after practice under the 'best' supervision around (though he secretly though John really wasn't one to teach as he'd never HAD to learn and...) they're firing and they’re hit and they're going down nose first and he fights the controls, pulling them up desperately while sparks fly from the console.

Kolya lays an unrestrictive hand on Rodney's shoulder - somewhat different from the **other** hand-shoulder gesture he's used in the past. "Stay calm, Doctor. You can do this." His tone is oddly supportive, all things considered.

McKay is staring unblinkingly out through the viewscreen by now, so harassed he wouldn't notice if Kolya was attempting to braid his hair, even if it were long enough. "Stop saying that! Just wait ‘till we... this doesn't have... I HAVE IT," he says, all of a sudden, yanking on the controls and sending them **straight** towards a very sturdy-looking tree. "Hold on," he says, "I don't know how to make this work for two," he adds – then suddenly there's an odd feeling of vertigo, something like Gate travel, and they rematerialise chest-deep in water, just in time to see the dart crash spectacularly.

A lot of this was unexpected. **That** was way beyond unexpected. For a moment, Kolya doesn't speak, and then finally he asks, quite blankly, "What did you do?"

"Crashed the ship so they think we died in the blast and transported us here with the same beam they use to abduct people," Rodney says proudly, looking down at the water. "Hmm. Interesting. The water must have been displaced immediately before we materialised." He starts wading out of the small pool, heading for the bank. "Hopefully they won't have detected it."

Kolya follows him, looking around now that the initial shock has faded a little. "And now?" he says. "I hope you know the location of this planet's Stargate - and that said location is workably close." Because otherwise...

McKay stops, closing his eyes a moment and trying to orient himself with the map from the ship. "I can't tell you distances," he says, pointing nevertheless. "But it's that way."

Kolya nods. "All right. We should start moving at once. If this planet is home to hostile animals, as you say, we should also attempt to remain in cover as much as possible." Hefting the stunner - which he’s oh-so-glad was beamed down along with them - he starts to move off.

"...Spielberg suggests not moving, if we see one, though I don't know how accurate that is..." Rodney says, leaning against a tree and waving a hand. "Need to eat."

Kolya gives him a rather unimpressed look. "Doctor. We have been walking for mere **moments**. And we are also somewhat without supplies."

McKay is fiddling in his pockets, swiping a hand over his brow. "I don't know HOW long we were unconscious but I know I haven't eaten in hours and unless you want my blood sugar to fall so drastically I lose speech and motor capabilities, I suggest we find me something to eat..."

"And how exactly are we to do that?" Kolya throws back. "We have no proper weaponry, and from what you say, this planet is not home to anyone who might helpfully offer us supplies. Beyond taking a risk if we locate any forms of wild fruit... you are going to have to cope for now."

McKay shoves a hand down the front of his own jacket, groping and groping and - aha - holding up a power bar with a smirk. "Emergency rations. Now unless you want to see what stress and shock does to a man?" he asks, opening it up.

Kolya smirks. "Under different circumstances, perhaps... but for now, even I would prefer to concentrate on reaching the Stargate." He refrains from mentioning how well he **knows** the effects that stress and shock both have on the doctor... for the time being, at least.

McKay starts eating and doesn't wait ‘till he's finished before talking again. "I can't think if it drops too low," he says, tongue swiping out to catch crumbs just seconds before he takes another bite. "Have to keep an eye on myself... do you think there are allergens here?" It's possible he's in denial and trying to stall, too.

Kolya goes oddly blank as Rodney starts eating - certainly a lot blanker than he is normally capable of. Yes. He can do denial too. "Allergens?" he repeats, finally. "We're on an alien planet, which you believe to be home to hostile animal life, and you're worrying about **allergens**?"

"If I sneeze I might give us away," Rodney snaps. "Or go blind. And there's nothing worse than going BLIND on a planet with an insane murderer and a T-Rex. Or maybe there is but I don't want to think about it, thank you very much." He brushes his hands off, drops the wrapper. "Is that the only weapon we've got?"

Kolya gives him a particularly cold look at the 'insane murderer' remark, hefting the stunner more than a little threateningly in response to both the remark and the question. "Yes," comes the nevertheless level-ish reply.

McKay stares at it. Then at Kolya. "You're going to have to put it down, you know."

"And why would I give up the one weapon we have?" Kolya throws back. "Besides, Doctor, if I wanted to attack **you** , I wouldn't need this. At least we have something that can be used against any hostiles we encounter here."

"Now see," Rodney says, waving a finger. "This? This is not how you get people to co-operate with you. Threats are not actually polite - I don't know if they failed to teach you that in Genii school after all the lying. I don't like you having it."

"That was not a threat... merely an observation," Kolya replies, coolly. "And believe me, when we encounter one of these 'dinosaurs' that you mentioned, you will be very, very grateful that one of us is armed."

"So why not me?"

"Because you are still partly incapacitated," Kolya states, without missing a beat. "And as we have already seen, my tactical abilities are superior to yours."

"Which is all the more reason to give me the stunner, because you can be all gung-ho and ninja it to death."

Kolya throws McKay his best 'I am **so** above this' glare, and merely says, "I don't think so, Doctor."

"I’m injured, and you are clearly," Rodney stresses the opinion with as much scorn as he can muster, "the 'superior' fighter here. And the only one armed. I'd say that gives you a significant advantage over me. And I just saved you from certain supper."

"As I recall, you would still be **hopping** along the corridors of that ship, if it weren't for me - and that is assuming one of the Wraith hadn't managed to find you. Now, I suggest you focus on getting us to the Stargate." He still keeps his tone level, but not overly so - knowing, as McKay surely does, the problems that will arise when they reach said Gate.

"And you would never have found a ship let alone known how to FLY one - or to beam down, so you'd be dead more than once if it wasn't for me." McKay glowers at him, unconvinced, from under his lashes. "What if it's longer than a day's walk?"

"My point is that both of us needs the other to get out of this alive." Kolya sounds slightly annoyed now - never a good sign. "Then we will have to find shelter," he replies, calmly.

"I knew that. I just wanted to make sure you knew that too," he says, hands rubbing together uselessly. "Well?"

"Lead the way," Kolya says, gesturing with the barrel of the stunner.

"That way," Rodney says, refusing to walk ahead of an armed man.

Kolya sets off, managing to walk as level with McKay as he can, watching the undergrowth cautiously.

They walk. And walk. And… "This reminds me of the camp they sent me on," Rodney remarks, before long, incapable of keeping silent. "And there was this boy called Emett, though I don't know what his first name was - don't think I ever did."

Kolya doesn't reply, knowing full-well how much Rodney is likely to talk, and, for the moment, deciding to let him.

"He was like you, in a way, except he had an alarming thing for kayak paddles. I hated camp. They sent me every year - but it was better than..." he stops, looking around. He didn't mean to say that. "I don't have a GDO," he says, suddenly, fear settling in.

Kolya was in the middle of musing about **why** McKay has suddenly started talking about his childhood, but is dragged from these thoughts as the doctor suddenly stops. Kolya pauses nearby, watching him. "Oh?" he says, in his best offhand tone, well aware of what the doctor means. "That will make things... somewhat challenging for you."

McKay looks unhappy. "Clearly. Why have we stopped? We shouldn't stop. I don't want to be eaten," he says, starting off again.

It was Rodney who set off first - so Kolya now follows him, fairly close behind. "Don't worry, Doctor," he says. "I won't let anything on this planet eat you." And he means it...

"And this is where I have to ask myself the very worrying question about whether or not the Genii have taken to ritual cannibalism - and I really wouldn't be good to eat, I'm not especially healthy, not that I ever have been, so I'd taste disgusting."

What a **very** odd comment... "No. The Genii do not practice cannibalism of any kind." Which is something he never expected to have to say.

"It was just the way you said it," Rodney explains, really starting to babble now and... shake his sore leg out with a very deep frown, "It's that certain doom thing again. Expecting everything. And I can't remember when I last had a proper meal..."

Kolya merely smirks. "Certain doom?" he repeats. "Come now. We just escaped from a Wraith hive ship. Have a little faith."

"And just as soon as you say something like that you DOOM us! Are you insane? You don't go around making claims like that until you are back home and you're sure the ceiling isn’t going to accidentally fall on your head! What next, are you going to decide we split up or investigate dark and ominous caves? Because if so, count me out!"

"Believe me, Doctor, I have **no** intention of splitting up. Or investigating anything other than sources of potential survival necessities, should the need arise."

McKay smiles nervously. "Well at least neither of us is a blond virgin, because otherwise the consequences wouldn't bear thinking about." Oh god, he really did just say that.

Kolya gives him what is possibly the most surprised stare imaginable, staring and staring and... yes. Just staring. There are no words. Not this time.

"Of course, we still might find one." Really, McKay. Shut UP.

Still, Kolya says nothing. He's used to meaningful, and meaningless, silence. This time though... there **are** no words; at least, none that won't have McKay trying to run for cover.

"Ford would have said if they were dragons though," Rodney concludes, looking straight ahead and walking and - jumping back and yelling when something fast and brown darts out in front of him.

A diversion. Very helpful. Because otherwise, Kolya was going to have to say something, and it is doubtful that Rodney would have liked it. He spots the movement a second before Rodney yells, and immediately points the stunner at the whatever-it-is that has suddenly appeared.

McKay has picked up **some** training and immediately drops and rolls to get out of range, cursing a blue streak at how that hurts, and looking up to see if Kolya hit the... whatever it is.

As Rodney starts moving, Kolya starts firing, trying to aim and identify the source of the threat at the same time. The creature is **fast,** no doubt about it, and has already doubled back in their direction before one of the stun bolts catches it. Shuddering, said creature stumbles and falls - but how effective the weapon will be, duration-wise, is a very good question indeed.

"What WAS that thing?" Rodney asks, struggling to his feet and standing just behind Kolya to peer.

The 'thing' in question is lying on the floor, panting, two sharp-toed feet more or less in the air. Kolya keeps the stunner trained on it, alert. "You tell me," he says. "You know more about this world than I do."

"I didn't come, I was busy trying to find something useful to do on the planet, not scout. My genius was needed elsewhere. And apparently the colonel thought that an ecological study could wait until after the certain doom and he only categorized the LARGER locals."

"Then this would appear to be one of the **smaller** locals," Kolya replies, relaxing a little now that it looks like the creature is actually unconscious.

"Did you kill it?" McKay asks, now peering over Kolya's shoulder.

"No. It appears to be stunned, however." He's rather amused by the way Rodney is hiding behind him. The whole thing has an oddly ironic sense to it.

"Right. Well. We know it works on the smaller ones at least," Rodney says, rubbing his sweaty hands over his legs to try to dry them. "We... we should get moving."

Kolya nods and starts to move off, keeping the weapon trained on the creature the whole time, in case it wakes up.

McKay wants to say something, but doesn't. But he wants to. He does. It's clear in the tone of breath he draws, the way he's restless. But he won't. Because Kolya isn't talking, and he's doing all the talking and...

Kolya can sense... something in McKay's behaviour. He's good at this kind of interpretation, even if Rodney is a difficult one to read. Eventually, he says, "Don't be so agitated, Doctor. Everything is going well."

"Of course," Rodney says, his contempt clear in his voice. Really well. "Some hitherto unknown usage of the word I've clearly never been made aware of."

"We are alive, and en-route to a way off this world," Kolya replies. "I would say that was a good thing, considering the situations we've been through."

"Will you stop being so optimistic? It's ruining my mood, thank you very much. Why do you keep trying to convince me anyway?"

"I am merely intrigued as to why you are so very negative." And, of course, verbally poking him in order to see how he reacts. Because he has to do **something** to pass the time.

"I tend to find that if I assume the worst then I can't be disappointed. And I tend to be right, anyway."

Kolya says no more - letting that silence descend again. It's quite a remarkable weapon, if you know what to do with it.

"I do know what you're doing, you do realise, don't you? Because I'm not stupid. Not at all."

"And what am I doing?" Kolya asks, blankly.

"Just... don't. Really. Kate and I were only discussing this the other day."

Again with the silence. Kolya doesn't say a word, waiting again to see how McKay will respond.

"It’s not going to work, you know," he says, pointedly not looking at him. "Because I... AH!" There's a flash of brown again.... faster.

Kolya instantly pushes Rodney out of the way, raising the stunner and opening fire. The creature comes dashing towards them, all feet and claws and very sharp teeth, leaping and... BLAM.

McKay yelps in protest and watches, having absolutely no clue what to do, so he keeps on yelling desperately and scrabbling for rocks to throw.

It is quite alarming how very difficult these... THINGS are to hit. The first three stun-bolts miss, as the creature skirts right past Kolya's leg - but as the whatever-it-is comes back in, making a nasty hissing noise, the fourth shot finally connects. There is a fresh THUMP as the creature hits the floor, in a swirl of leaves and dust, but then nothing else.

McKay stares. "We... they're going to keep coming and making a noise, aren't they?" he asks, sounding somewhat shaky.

"Possibly," Kolya replies, off-hand, stunner still trained on the fallen creature - half-wondering if it's the **same** one from before.

"...Do you not think we should... do something?"

"Beyond attempting to move slowly and covertly through the undergrowth... what **can** we do? Our best chance is to make it to the Gate."

McKay stares at it. "...We could... tie it up?"

Kolya gives him an unimpressed look - though with a rather odd edge to it. "Or we could kill it, and thereby work out if we are in fact being stalked by just one small alien creature."

McKay looks at it. "I... don't want to kill it. But if we tie it up it's as good as dead, isn't it?" Thinking aloud.

"If we tie it up, yes," Kolya replies, voice completely level. "Hence why killing it would be preferable anyway."

"Couldn't we just... lose it?"

"And risk it following us again?"

McKay frowns, looking distressed. "There could be all sorts of reasons not to kill it. We might be hunted down by a pack or something. And... I don't want to."

Kolya almost rolls his eyes. "Doctor. If you want to get off this planet alive, I suggest you work on your priorities."

"Look... don't, okay?"

Kolya actually points the stunner at him. "We are not having this discussion."

McKay looks bloody furious now, all sense of personal safety momentarily out the window. "You have NO right to decide what goes on here - you have no jurisdiction over me, and even if you did I wouldn't listen to you because you are an unqualified ASS. Just because you have a weapon and can't contemplate anyone ELSE being RIGHT. So you carried me out. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me and I'm not going a step further if you think you can just wave that in my face and I'll tuck my tail between my legs and do whatever you say."

Silent, Kolya advances on him slowly, until the barrel of the stunner brushes against McKay's stomach. "I will ask you one more time... do you want to get out of this alive, or not?"

"Of course I do," the doctor says, his expression... complicated. Two fingers on the barrel, pushing it down and to the side a little. "If you shoot me, you might need me later - and then what will you do? Because if you shoot me and I miraculously don't end up eaten by some DINOSAUR I won't HELP YOU will I?"

"You will help me," Kolya replies, in that particularly alarming tone of voice he saves for occasions like this. "Now, I suggest you trust in my judgement before this **thing** wakes up and tries to eat you again."

Rodney glares, jaw clenching. It's small. It's... too small to eat them and it's the principle of the... "Immobilise it. Just so long that it's got a fighting chance. Don't kill it. Please." Eyes closed, and he breathes to centre himself, then turns his back and walks on a little.

Kolya sighs, turning back to the fallen creature. He pauses, and then hits it with the barrel of the stunner - though not with enough force to kill it. Then, shaking his head, he follows McKay, now hoping that they are near the Gate - but suspecting otherwise.

McKay carries on in silence for a bit, before his - admittedly weak - sense of duty makes him stiffly, formally say, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kolya allows him - **just** \- tone guarded.

"Don't suppose you ever had a kitten did you?"

"No. I did not," Kolya replies.

"I didn't think so. I could tell."

"...Why do you ask?" He's starting to surprise **himself** with the almost conversational air that seems to be appearing now.

"You would have liked my cat." Rodney appears to think things over. "She might even have liked you. It was just the way that... thing clawed reminded me of what Radek said his dog was like when he'd left him alone to go on holiday for a fortnight and how he'd be if he ever got back home. And then I thought that it wasn't that much different from a dog really, if you think about it, and that I'm beginning to increasingly think that's how the Ancients see us anyway. But I thought you were more of a cat person than a dog one."

Kolya blinks at him, momentarily lost for words. Finally, he says, "I have spent my life living in an underground bunker. We do not keep animals below the surface." It seems about the only thing he **can** say, short of asking McKay if he's inhaled some sort of alien-planet-drug.

"No, I know. But it would have been good for you. Having something warm and alive. Something that cares and you can stroke. Some people think it's only because they want food but... I don't know, sometimes I think I communicated more with my cat than my co-workers. Maybe you could have a rat..."

At this, Kolya gives him another very odd look, and doesn't say anything. Maybe the constant talking helps. If it does, so be it...

"I wonder if they think of putting us down, sometimes. Out of our misery. Or wiping us out like pests. I know it's cliché but… cliché gets that way for a reason."

Kolya looks sideways at him. "Do you always talk this much?" He doesn't sound irritated so much as... well, something else.

"Yes. I find it helps me to... concentrate. And not to fly into a panic, so much. I usually say whatever is on my mind, and I'm sorry but I can't stop just because it's distracting, even if I wanted to."

Smirking a little, Kolya claps him on the shoulder. "Doctor, you sound almost... concerned." And there goes the understatement of the century award... He's doing it deliberately, of course. After all... what **else** is there to do?

McKay jumps, a sudden flare of panic rising. He doesn't even think of hiding it. "And there's a reason why I shouldn't be concerned when I'm not sure if I'm better sitting on a rock waiting for the local populace to gnaw my leg off or walk around with the psychopath? Can we please stop thinking about that at least until we get to the Gate? I've had enough to worry about today already."

Kolya smirks more, voice light as he speaks. "You really are quite negative at times," he remarks.

"Oh, and what should I be doing instead? Counting my blessings? Because right about now I don't think I have that many."

"You are alive, and have so far not been mauled by one of this planet's inhabitants." The commander pauses, delivering the next line with a knowingly evil edge. "What do you have left to be worried about?"

"Oh, let me see, the man who tried to kill my friends and... take my home and my only means of saving us all from the Wraith? Or is that a blessing too and I'm just being **negative**?"

"You could be with someone a lot worse. At least I'm not harbouring a desire to shoot you on sight."

"Oh no, you'll wait until you've used me for all I'm good for before you do THAT. And that's so very reassuring. I think not."

"I have no intention of killing you, Doctor," Kolya states.

"That doesn't mean you won't shoot me."

And Kolya gives him one very alarming smile, saying nothing more.

Rodney stands stock still.

Kolya pauses too, waiting for him, the picture of offhand calmness - well, mostly.

"I'm not coming. I'll take my chances with the indigenous life forms, thank you very much."

"Don't be a fool, Doctor. We both know that I need you to find the Gate, and you need me to get you there alive."

"You just did as much as say you're going to shoot me. I'm sure I could find my way without you. There's trees. I could hide in those if anything came sniffing at me."

"I never said anything of the kind," Kolya replies, lightly. "Now stop worrying and start walking."

"No! You're going to shoot me. And god knows what else. Find your way without me."

"I am not going to shoot you. Nor am I just going to leave you here."

"Well, I don't see what other option you have," he says, a little pale.

"It would be best if I didn't need one," Kolya states, tone more or less level.

"I'm not coming. And if you fire that anyway, the noise will draw attention to you. So you should just carry on without me like nothing's happened and we'll both likely die but at least you won't get to see it."

"Let me put this another way," Kolya says, more firmly. "I am **not** leaving you behind."

"I'm sure we can find you a tree too... any preference? Deciduous or evergreen?"

"Start walking," Kolya repeats, stressing both words.

McKay folds his arms across his chest, nostrils flaring. Then he realises he's showing Kolya his arms and... crap, that's not a nice memory.

Kolya resorts to the glare again, noting that something new has just flickered in Rodney's eyes, and wondering if it is something he can use.

McKay tries to stay calm. "Look. It’s best for us both if you leave. As nice as it was while it lasted..."

"No," Kolya replies, resolute. "I need you to find the Gate."

"That way."

"Oh no. You're coming with me. We're not splitting up until we get there."

"What part of 'No, you homicidal maniac,' do you fail to understand?"

"The part where you think this is a choice-based situation."

"See? This is your problem. One of them." He's gesturing with his hands now, looking around from time to time for... something. "You haven't got a squad of men here. You can't make me do anything."

"I don't need any kind of backup here, Doctor." And oh, now his voice is getting dangerous. "You have no choice. Both of us still needs the other, and both of us are going to have to live with that."

McKay's voice is shaking a little, but he's still trying his best to be brave, to stand up for himself. There's a hint of desperation in his tone. "I can't trust you. I don't like you and I don't feel safe with you. Explain to me how I am possibly supposed to handle this any other way."

"I know this isn't **easy** , but I recommend you live with it." Kolya still sounds fairly level, but this is from rather more effort than he would like, and the aggression in his tone is getting harder to suppress.

"You don't need me. Really. I'm terrible at navigation - though better than the colonel - and you'd probably find it faster on your own. So why don't you just..."

Oh. Not good. Kolya on the edge is bad enough. But mentioning Sheppard, even in passing? Much worse. His resolve snaps in a very brief instant, and at once, he reverts to acting on instinct, slamming Rodney into the nearest tree without a second thought.

McKay yelps, hands grabbing at Kolya's arm as he squirms, eyes wide. "See? See!"

"Listen to me," Kolya hisses at him. "You are making this unnecessarily difficult. I am not out to hurt you. I am merely trying to get back home. So I suggest you do **not** give me reason to change my priorities."

McKay looks as though he's on the brink of a panic attack, his breathing fast and erratic, his hands shaking a little. There's a moment or two more when the fight is all but visible in his eyes, then he nods.

At first, Kolya doesn't move, prolonging the moment to emphasise his point. Finally, however, he lets go of Rodney, taking a step back. "Now," he says, calmer again but still firm, "let's go."

McKay nods again, straightening his clothing obsessively and waiting to follow.

Kolya stands firm, waiting for McKay to go first, looking particularly immoveable.

Rodney just looks at him, trying not to say anything... really... really... trying... not going to...

Glaring back, Kolya gestures a little with the barrel of the stunner that he's still holding.

McKay blushes, fingers rubbing into his palms, then sets off.

And Kolya follows him, quiet, starting to wonder what will happen if it turns out that the Gate **is** more than a day's walk away...

McKay is surprisingly silent throughout, at least until he starts stumbling as he walks, through tiredom and dehydration and hunger. "We need to stop," he says, simply. Because it's true.

"All right," Kolya agrees. He's not going to argue with that. Though he himself could keep going for longer, it would be extremely foolish to drag Rodney along until he passed out. Really.

McKay just sits where he was standing and lies back.

Kolya settles nearby, against a tree, watching the doctor carefully.

"We need water," Rodney says, still trying not to talk too much. "We do, don't we?"

"Yes, we do," Kolya agrees. "Rest here for a moment, and then we will go in search of a stream. There is likely to be one nearby."

McKay nods, and lies back again. Quiet, calm - at least superficially so.

Kolya continues to stare at him, though not so oppressively as before, giving the doctor genuine rest-time.

"Tell me when we have to move, I could lie here... not forever but you get the point..." Rodney says, waving a hand vaguely.

After a few minutes, Kolya gets up again, glancing around as he does. "All right, Doctor, let's go in search of a stream. You can rest more once we find one."

McKay nods, then gets up slowly - grunting and using the tree for support. "I think I have things to check any water we find," he says.

"Good," Kolya replies, approvingly, before continuing to glance all around. Finally, he picks a direction to head in - deeper into the undergrowth, towards what looks like a small rocky outcrop, mostly covered by the forest.

"Why are you going this way?" Rodney asks, actually curious even if he still sounds disdainful.

"It seemed as good a direction as any," comes the offhand reply. "And I wanted to investigate those rocks."

"Not some secret hunter's skills then?"

"No," is all Kolya says, still walking onwards.

"And you couldn't have lied about something like this to make me feel better?"

"Are you asking me to start lying to you?"

"I was merely pointing out that if you do lie, things like that are good to lie about, but only if you can do it convincingly and you'd have to be good to fool me and you won't manage it now, will you?"

"How do you know I haven't been doing it the whole time?"

"...What part? Because I already KNOW what I think you mean."

"And what do I mean, Doctor?"

"You mean to use me for my brilliant brains, or for bargaining, or to annoy Colonel Sheppard. Or all of the above."

"What an interesting idea..." Kolya remarks, in a very off-hand tone.

"Oh please. I'm the smartest person of all the collective brilliance Earth had to offer. Dignify me with the truth at least."

"The truth? I want to get off this planet. You can help me do that. Hence why I need you." It's the truth... but, of course, it is not the **whole** truth. He knows that Rodney is well aware of this... but it would be so very boring to just say so.

McKay shakes his head in resignation. "Water. Before I pass out from dehydration and it all becomes immaterial."

Kolya nods and keeps moving, drawing closer to the rocky section up ahead, gaze scanning the area.

"...You know, you really aren't very good at this."

Refusing to be baited, Kolya ignores him, pace not slowing.

"Look, I know I'm rather unique but you could at least attempt to find some common ground between us. I know you've never heard of Stockholm but you must be aware of the concept..."

Kolya looks over at him. "Stockholm?" he repeats. "No, I am not familiar with the term. Though I am sure you will be more than willing to explain it."

"It's fairly simple. It all has to do with not ISOLATING and intimidating people but getting them to have the same goals as you. Motivation? Ever heard of that?"

It’s a shame Rodney didn’t give him a more honest definition, because the commander would have known what he was talking about **straight away**.

"Of course," Kolya replies, nevertheless. "As far as I am aware, you and I **do** have the same goals - namely, to get off this planet alive. If that is not enough motivation for you, I suggest you tell me what is."

"...You didn't think that it might help if I'm not half-wishing you would get eaten anyway? People tend to put that little bit more effort in if they... look, why am I giving you advice? It's not like I'm the expert at this, either."

"What do you **expect** me to do, Doctor?" Kolya asks him, somewhat suddenly. "Turn around and start casually inquiring about your childhood, or what you were doing last week? You would only mistrust me further."

"Only because you say everything like it's the end of the world - even more than I do! How am I supposed to stop worrying if you storm around with a face like thunder and radiate... whatever it is you radiate?! You're unsettling me and it isn't helpful at all and you should... you should try to be charming and not look as though you'd like to see me dead as soon as I stop being useful. It's... You're doing this all wrong."

Kolya stops at once, staring at him. "You're the one who's convinced that we're going to die! And as for the rest... whatever I do, you will assume I have underhand motivations."

"That's because you do! But sometimes it's nice to entertain the possibility you don't, for sanity's sake. And you aren't making it very easy for me."

"You think this is easy for **me**?" Kolya retorts, instantly. "Every five minutes, you refer to me as some form of homicidal maniac! Do you think that inspires me with warm feelings?"

"I don't recall lifting any knife or gun to YOU in the past - forever! You came and took Elizabeth and me hostage and threatened to kill my friends! You can see how this would have left a bad impression on me!"

"I was **doing my job** ," Kolya states, stressing the words as if he's said this far too often. "As you were doing yours, I might add, when you repeatedly lied to me and kept on stalling so that the **illustrious** Colonel Sheppard had time to murder most of my men! What kind of impression do you think that left on **me** , Doctor?!" He's yelling now, something he rarely resorts to... and thus, not a good sign.

"He would have died! The whole city was going to be one giant superconductor! He, Teyla, Ford and Carson would all have been killed! And I wasn't lying to you, not at first. I was telling the truth. You shot our people on sight, as soon as you came through. You lied to him. You said you'd killed Elizabeth. You wanted everything... we'd never get home and... this is so stupid I can't believe it. This is why I can't talk to people! Morons! The lot of you!"

"I did what I had to do. You did what **you** had to do. Neither of us is going to agree with the other on the matter, so I suggest we drop it." This is more or less his last-ditch attempt at defusing the situation... because he's on the brink of **really** losing it.

McKay looks as though he's... almost crying. Not quite, but it's close. He chews briefly on his bottom lip, clearly fighting himself, swallowing back the first retort on his lips, closing his eyes. "It's just all so silly," he says, in a carefully quiet little voice that he rarely uses, because he rarely... sees this. "I don't know whether to laugh at you or cry," he admits, then shakes his head.

And at this, Kolya is quite literally lost for words. Part of him wants to keep yelling, because there are things in his mind that need to be said, but part of him **knows** it's time to shut up - and somehow, that part wins. Silent, he looks back at McKay; amazed, as always, at how very emotional the man can be.

McKay swallows before he chokes. "We should move on. I still don't want to be eaten and I'm feeling a little... light-headed now."

Still quiet, Kolya nods, setting off again, hoping that they are going to find water soon. Thoughtful, he wonders, not at all idly, what would have happened if the... discussion had continued.

"How long were we unconscious, do you know?"

"I have no idea," Kolya replies. "I doubt there's any way to know, at this point."

"...Can't you tell by... being hungry?"

"I suppose so, but I wasn't really thinking about it."

"I'm just worried I'll run out of food."

"If the Gate isn't close, it's a possibility. Just how much further do you-" And then he cuts himself off, as the route through the undergrowth opens out a little, revealing a stream, just off to the right. Kolya allows himself a slightly smug smile at that.

McKay mumbles, "Few hours before I..." Oh, but there's water. Water he gladly goes to kneel by and holds his hands in, feeling it swish between his fingers.

"Of course, there's always a risk that this water is not ideal for drinking," Kolya remarks, almost thinking aloud as he watches McKay swirl his hands through the stream.

McKay pauses, then kneels back, shaking them off. "Right. I don't suppose you have a cup or anything like that on you, do you?”

"No." Life is annoying like that. And now it looks like a choice between dehydration or catching some alien disease.

McKay fumbles with rather in-depth pocketage, his tongue sticking out as he... aha. Pulls out a small strip of tablets. "We need to have something to keep it in while it sterilises."

"I have nothing," replies Kolya. " **This** scenario was not considered during planning before I left my homeworld."

McKay grits his teeth. "They took anything that would work from me. And unless you can see something vaguely suitable... at least, more suitable than a boot..."

Kolya gives him an **almost** amused look. "Do all your plans involve footwear, Doctor?" he says, with the slightest smile.

"What?"

And Kolya now merely half-smirks at him, saying no more.

"What?" Scowl. "Look, some of us are trying to save us here. Could you be less with the cryptic and more with the action man?"

"Doctor. When I left my planet, I was equipped with an impressive multitude of weapons, but no kind of survival equipment. So if you have a plan, I suggest you carry it out."

"You have bigger feet. And the weapon. It should be your boot... in fact, why am I even bothering? I'm a scientist, not a Boy Scout."

Kolya rolls his eyes resignedly, sits down on a nearby log, and is shortly offering one of his boots to McKay. **Again.**

McKay nods a thanks, then shakes his head. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Really. Aren't we supposed to precipitate it or something..?" then, shrugging, he dunks it. And swirls it. And swirls it some more, and tips it up and... oh maybe he should have taken the laces out but it's too late now. So he laces it up well, fills it one last time, and drops a tablet in. And stares at it. "You realise it takes several hours?"

And Kolya gives him a glare that would most likely cause spontaneous combustion under the wrong conditions. "We should wait," he says, sounding more than a little unimpressed. "Otherwise the dehydration will get even worse."

McKay nods. "Do you want to do another one? I have... six tablets." He ignores the anger entirely.

"That would be wise," Kolya answers, stressing his words again.

McKay waits for him to take his other boot off.

Kolya does not move, and the glare comes right back - with a vengeance.

McKay snaps his fingers. "Boot."

"I believe one each would be fair, Doctor," Kolya says, in his best 'give-us-the-C4-and-no-one-gets-badly-hurt' voice.

"What? Look..." All but growling, Rodney yanks both of his off. "I was going to do them all." He glares, clicks his fingers some more. "Do stop stalling."

Oh, not a good thing to say at all. No, no, no. Kolya hands over the other boot after a moment, but looks very much like he's about ready to dunk Rodney head-first into the stream.

McKay acts as though he's oblivious, though it's possible he isn't. He fills the other three boots as methodically, then sits them in a little row in the shade of one of the trees. "There."

Kolya continues to glare at Rodney, saying nothing, and starting, again, to wish very much that he had his knife with him.

McKay settles down with a loud complain to rest against a tree again, head tilted back, eyes almost shutting. "It's horrible weather." Far too sunny.

"Yes. Much too bright," Kolya says. Talking about the weather... never a good thing. "But at least it is not...-" Whatever he was about to say gets cut off as there is a flurry of brown, and something small and hissing suddenly pounces in Rodney's general direction.

McKay's hands go to the floor on either side of him, and he's suddenly absolutely still. Whatever it is is sitting on his outstretched legs, sharp, clawed hands near his face... sniffing, its tail swishing menacingly from side to side.

Kolya watches it... and watches it... and watches it... and ok, yes, he's deliberately stalling, most likely out of some kind of malice. But after a moment, he's got the stunner pointed at the creature and, once he's sure of the aim, he fires, catching the target in the back.

McKay YOWLS as the creature instinctively digs its claws into his legs, its front ones scraping at his chest. Rodney tries to shove it off, clearly in a lot of pain, but the beast is fairly heavy and he doesn't seem entirely with it. "Kolya! Kolya! Oh my GOD I'm going to DIE! Help!"

Instinct kicks in at break-neck speed. Kolya leaps to his feet without even thinking, raising the stunner as he charges right at the creature, thwacking it with as much force as he can. The blow connects with the side of its head - eliciting a particularly sickening CRUNCH noise.

McKay isn't moving much, the sudden pain enough to send him into shock. He just... stares... not moving at all, apart from the shake in his hands and the shuddering, too-fast breaths he's taking.

Kolya points the stunner at the fallen creature, shoots it again with a considerably cold look in his eyes, and then turns back to McKay. Oh no, no... this is not good at all. Kneeling right in front of him, Kolya tugs some loose material from one of his pockets, trying to apply pressure to the wounds on Rodney's legs. "Doctor?" he says. "Doctor! Try to focus!"

McKay is very pale, all the blood having rushed away from his face. To his legs, it seems, where it's clear from the shredded fabric and the seeping, spreading mess that he's more than a little scratched. His chest is also bleeding, but nowhere near as badly as his legs. He's hardly blinking, but just about manages to focus on Kolya, frowning in confusion. The pain hasn't kicked in yet.

"Doctor!" Kolya repeats. "Stay with me! Focus!" The commander looks fairly calm... but there's a lot of genuine concern behind his eyes.

"I... What?" he asks, fingers fluttering a little madly before he looks down and sees the mess he's in. "Oh... oh. That's really not good," he says, weakly. "I think it bit me."

"You're going to be fine," Kolya tells him automatically. "It's not as bad as it looks." Well. Rodney said earlier that he wanted to be lied to...

"I... Where is it?" he asks, suddenly panicking and turning to look, only to hiss in pain and lie back on the tree again, woozily. "Oh god. Oh god they'll smell me a mile off and eat me for sure..." Then he looks up, suddenly looking possibly the most scared he's ever seemed. Stood in front of a gun scared. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Shoot me but don't let them eat me. Oh crap...." He stares down again, looking ready to pass out.

"Doctor!" Kolya says again. "I am not going to leave you, and I am **not** going to let them eat you." There's a very defensive edge to his tone now, as he tries to keep Rodney conscious.

"It hurts. Should it be hurting? I mean, this much?" He tries to vaguely pat his pockets down. "Did I mention that I'm not good with pain? Although you already know how pathetic I am at the si..." Eyes pressed tight closed, as he tries to ride a wave of nausea that's only made easy by not having eaten in so long.

"Relax. Try to keep breathing steadily." Kolya keeps talking, aiming to give Rodney something to focus on, all the while thinking how very bad this is turning out.

McKay jams his eyes shut, as the pain starts to kick in, the endorphins wearing out. There's tears in the corner of his eyes, and he flinches. "You have your stomach eaten out by a dinosaur and see how steadily... AH! DAMN! ... you breathe!"

Kolya knows he needs to do something about the wounds, and quickly - and finds himself wishing once more, but for a very different reason, that he still had his knife. That's when his eye catches something on the side of McKay's lower leg - something the Wraith most likely missed, due to it being hidden by the doctor's now-removed boot. It's a short combat knife - and Kolya goes for it at once.

McKay is watching him intently - one moment, at least, the next staring off into the distance - but sudden movements grab his attention and he makes a quiet noise of panic, trying to move his leg and scrabble out of reach, though swaying like a drunk in a high wind as soon as he does. "Oh no, no no no... that would be bad. Really bad..."

"I told you before, I am not going to hurt you," Kolya insists. "But I need to treat the wounds on your legs, and to do that, I need to cut through the fabric."

"No! Why do you need to do that?! Are you a doctor? Not that I TRUST doctors! No... really, really bad idea..." and then he wavers off, woozily, before trying to reach for the knife without leaning. "My pants.... have sentimental value."

Staring at him at these words, Kolya reaches for the knife again, managing to get hold of it this time - and **instantly** feeling a lot better. "McKay," he says, firmly, but keeping his tone more or less non-hostile, "keep still and try to be calm."

"You're waving a KNIFE around and planning to take off my CLOTHES and I am already BLEEDING!" The last of which is a very undignified squeak. Few thoughts are as bad as these kinds, and the pain is only making it worse. "Oh god, oh god, I'm too smart to die," he says, closing his eyes.

"You are **not** going to die," Kolya says again. "Not if you let me help you." Without waiting for any actual agreement from Rodney, Kolya moves closer, starting to cut at the doctor's clothing, a little way above the wound.

McKay is holding very, very still, apart from the fine trembling. His eyes stay shut, though they flutter, and his breathing is erratic. But he's still. The still of an animal in the headlights, but still. And... quiet.

The quietness is a good thing. Fairly calm, Kolya works on cutting aside the fabric to uncover the two unpleasant-looking wounds on Rodney's legs. Not good. They're going to need bathing before he attempts to bandage them - and so, after a moment, he moves to retrieve one of the bootfuls of water.

McKay opens his eyes when he hears Kolya moving, swallows, then looks down. Oh so very not good. In the highest degree. In a post-graduate way, maybe. Even that thought fails to cheer him.

Close again, Kolya now looks at Rodney. "This may hurt," he says - not something he generally bothers to tell people - before starting to pour part of the water over the gashes.

McKay jumps and hisses in a breath through his teeth - but that's the only sound he makes, fingers tensing in the grass beneath him.

Kolya uses the rest of that particular bootful of water, and a piece of currently non-bloody fabric, to clean the wounds as best he can. "Now, do you have any kind of medical equipment in that impressively well-stocked jacket of yours?" he asks.

"I... do I what?"

"I need to bandage your legs," Kolya says. "Do you have anything I can use?"

"...Pockets."

Kolya starts searching... and searching... and well, these Atlanteans **do** seem to like having places to put things and... ah. He finally finds a pair of fairly thick dressings, and starts applying them to the wounds, tying them firmly in place.

McKay hisses in pain again. But doesn't complain. He's feeling rather cowed.

"Hey, stay with me, Doctor," Kolya repeats. "You need to stay focussed, or you'll pass out."

"Not... faint though."

"...They're the same thing."

"No. Pass out is... medical... manly... Fainting is.... weak. Cowardly."

"I suggest you do not do either," says Kolya, levelly, finishing work on the bandages.

"Passing out is... what the Colonel Sheppards do. Except, he'd never have been wounded - or he would have been saving me and he'd still be running around now and never mind the pain..."

Kolya looks distinctly irritated at the recurrence of Sheppard's name, but doesn't mention it. "I've done all I can for now," he says. "Move your arms, so I can look at your chest." And yes, he realises that that probably wasn't the best way to put it.

"...I'll start bleeding again if I move," Rodney says, in what he must think of as a 'reasonable' tone.

"You won't **stop** if something isn't done."

McKay looks hurt, but reluctantly does as he's told.

And it's time for more water, as Kolya works on dealing with the gashes across Rodney's chest, once he has cut through his shirt. Thankfully, the gashes aren't as bad as his leg wounds - if they were, he might easily have ended up dead. Then Kolya starts joining various pieces of surviving material together, using the resulting strip to bind Rodney's chest.

"...I don't see why you're bothering. I can't walk, and no one knows we're here."

"Because, contrary to popular opinion, I do not just leave people to die," Kolya replies - and there's a lot more behind that statement than may seem obvious at first. "We are both going to get out of this, even if I have to carry you all the way to the gate myself."

McKay stares. "Why?" It's blunt, brutal and to the point. As he often is.

"Why do you care?" Kolya throws back. He can do blunt and brutal too. And deflection. He's also good at that.

"It's my life. I like to know... why. I'm..." he looks away, now, embarrassed. "I'm... sometimes I can't understand people very well, it might surprise you to know. I just... wanted to know."

At this point, Kolya **could** say that he's keeping Rodney alive in order to take him back to the Genii homeworld and use him to make plenty of bombs. Yet somehow... that seems, well, the **wrong** thing to say - not to mention the very watered-down version. But he's not especially good at these kinds of conversations. "You don't deserve to die here, like this," is what he says. The other words... can stay unspoken.

"You probably won't make it with me. For whatever your reasons. I'm a liability, a dead man talking. You're..." You remind me of the colonel? Somehow, for once, he senses it's the wrong thing to say. He shrugs. "On your head be it."

"I am not leaving you behind," Kolya says, firmly, in his don't-argue-with-me voice. That said, he looks up, staring at the sky through the forest canopy. "It appears to be getting darker," he remarks. Which is **not** good either.

"Oh great. That's just... peachy."

"We are going to have to find somewhere secure for the night," Kolya goes on, thinking aloud.

"...Right. Because we passed that motel about five hundred yards back..."

Kolya almost rolls his eyes at this, not commenting. "I doubt we can just stay here," he says. "More of these creatures will likely turn up. No... we need to be... off the ground..." And now, he's looking at one of the multi-branched trees nearby...

"No."

"Do you **want** to sit here and wait for more of those things to turn up and eat you?"

"I neglected to bring my orienteering gear and helicopter. Did you?"

"I think we can manage this without any of those. But it may not be easy..." Kolya’s voice trails off a little as he starts looking up at the particular tree that's caught his eye, the plan forming.

"No. I can't climb trees anyway. I was the kid who was too busy building reactors and EM pulse generators to bump his knees over and over. There's no way you can get me up one NOW."

Kolya raises an eyebrow at him. "And I spent my life living underground where there **are** no trees," he says, levelly. "Now stop arguing, unless you actually **want** to get eaten alive by one of those things." Getting up, he walks over to the tree, inspecting the branches, testing the strength of those he can reach.

"Underground, your own bedroom, a lab, what's the difference anyway?" Rodney asks, fingers strumming rather rapidly now. "I don't see how I could get up there anyway.”

"Simple," Kolya says, knowing full-well that it isn't. "I'm going to pick you up and help you get hold of one of the large, higher branches. And then... as you won't be able to pull yourself up, I'll climb up the other side of the tree and **drag** you up there myself." Simple? Not likely...

McKay just stares. "You are joking, right?"

Kolya stares right back. "Do you want to be eaten by a dinosaur?" he asks, very bluntly.

“I'm heavy."

"I can manage. And we appear to have no other choice."

"Oh my god, did you get hit on the head? You mean it, don't you?"

"Yes. I mean it."

McKay stares some more, at a loss for words.

Rodney at a loss for words. Does that count as a first? "Right," Kolya says, not mentioning anything else. He walks back over to where the doctor is lying, leaning down to help him up - and knowing, at once, that this is really **not** going to be easy...

McKay hisses his breath in at the movement, clinging on suddenly as he realises he's not going to stand under his own power, and that if he fell now it would really - **really** \- hurt. "How do you even know you can climb a tree?"

Kolya shrugs. "Climbing is climbing." He's careful as he helps Rodney move, stopping once they are both beneath the tree in question. "Now," he says, "I'm going to pick you up, and I need you to get a good hold on **that** branch."

"...Which branch?" McKay asks, trying not to wince and hiss too much. Or he thinks he's trying not to, but may in fact be doing it on purpose anyway....

Kolya points again. " **That** one." He moves around, trying to work out the best way to lift Rodney without causing further damage.

McKay blushes a little, chewing on his lip and nodding overly solemnly. "Right. Right. That one. Hold onto it while you... no, not thinking. So not thinking."

And Kolya picks him up. There's a moment whilst he works on the best way to balance, before he starts lifting Rodney as high as he can, trying to ignore the harsh pressure against his shoulders.

McKay makes a little grunting noise of discomfort, and scrabbles with his arms, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. He so badly wants to move his feet, but he can't. "Higher," he says, a little muffled and panicked.

Kolya obliges, shifting position so as to get Rodney as close to the branch as possible - which is not easy considering how very edgy the man appears to be.

McKay makes an even more strangled-sounding noise and gets some kind of hold on it, but he's already slipping a fair bit. "I don't think... this is going to work so well..."

Kolya looks up at him, still holding on for now. "Just don't let go," he says. "Ready?"

“Do I look ready?" he asks, snappily, but breathlessly, fighting gravity. Gravity appears to be winning, somewhat, though he's not beaten yet.

"Yes," Kolya answers, flatly, slowly letting go of him. Then, without hesitating, he moves around to the other side of the tree, starting to clamber up it at once.

McKay scratches with a foot at the bark, trying for leverage, but soon gives up on that idea when the pain hits. So. He... hangs. Knuckles white with effort, face red, dangling from the branch and feeling like an ass.

Kolya climbs as fast as he can, despite the tree's constant efforts to deter him. Up and up, fingers gripping at every branch, until he's finally right above Rodney, trying to get a firm foothold so as to pull him up. There's only one way to do it. He reaches down, grasping both of McKay's wrists, moving to haul him closer.

McKay yells loudly again, but tries not to wriggle, to kick and struggle. "Careful! CAREFUL! Oh god my hands, that HURTS!"

Stopping to argue the point would only make matters worse, so Kolya doesn't bother, continuing to pull McKay up into the tree. Eventually, and just managing to avoid sending them both crashing back to the floor, he succeeds, shifting Rodney into a fairly secure position against the trunk.

McKay's eyes are closed and he's breathing hard, not wanting to open them just yet and look. One arm's curled protectively around himself, the other out to the side for balance.

Kolya pauses for a moment, also breathing deeply, aching from the effort. "That went well," he remarks, almost off-hand.

McKay laughs hollowly. "As well as shoving a dead man up a tree can go."

“You are not a dead man," Kolya replies, like he means it. "Now... I should bring our water supplies up here." Shifting position, he lowers himself onto the branch beneath them, starting to descend.

"I should have been dead a long time ago so I suppose I should feel grateful anyway.”

Kolya hears this, but doesn't answer, as he is already dropping to the ground, trying to work out how to move two and a half bootfuls of water up a rather large tree. Which is not a problem he has faced before.

McKay sighs at the lack of response, then leans over to see what's holding him, struck by a sudden panic. "Kolya!"

Kolya looks up at once. "What?"

"You're..." Not leaving? "Is everything all right?"

"Everything is fine," Kolya tells him, wedging the boots onto one of the lower branches. So. This might take a while...

"...You cold loop them over your neck? By the laces? So they hang one on each side?" Rodney offers, trying to distract from his own momentary panic.

“I doubt that would work," Kolya replies, now climbing up onto the lower branch and moving the collection of boots to the one above - constantly aware of how very, very strange this is turning out to be.

"Your funeral," Rodney says, and sits back, now that he's sure Kolya isn't leaving him up here. "Easier if we had a pulley system of course."

"Of course," Kolya says, sounding a little irritated. "Did you **bring** one?"

McKay snorts condescendingly. "Right. Along with my sonic screwdriver, my ipod and a small gas heater. What do you think?"

Now on the branch below, Kolya glares up at him. "I think you should stop being so incredibly hostile and start being glad that you're **alive**."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm like this all the time. Admittedly you've only seen me in life or death situations, and you've been the cause of them, but believe me, I'm not Mister Laughs-and-Sunshine."

"And why is that?" Kolya inquires - sounding almost genuinely interested as opposed to cold and hostile.

"Because life isn't laughs and sunshine. Or hadn't you noticed that either?" And if he sounds a little bitter... well.

"I **had** noticed," comes the reply. And though he could elaborate, he doesn't, choosing instead to concentrate on wedging the boots into place against the tree trunk. That done, he scrambles into place on the branch nearest McKay, staring up at the fast-darkening sky.

“Funny. Nobody else seems to."

"They rarely do," Kolya says. "They see the world just as they want it, rather than how it is."

“Don't you think they'd say the same about us?" Rodney asks, leaning his head back. "Sometimes I wonder if we're any of us right."

“Oh, they do," Kolya agrees, looking over at him. "But that doesn't make us wrong."

"I'm smarter than them anyway," Rodney says weakly, a tired little laugh. Then he looks forwards, an intent expression. Rifles through his pockets carefully and retrieves something. "Catch."

Kolya raises his hand just in time, fingers closing around... what exactly is it? On closer inspection, 'it' turns out to be another one of those bars that Rodney was eating earlier. Atlantean or not, food is still food, and Kolya is quick to start eating it.

"I thought... we'd be gone by now. And I'd need it more than you because I'd go into shock, but I'm a dead man anyway and I'd rather you didn't eat me when I do die."

"You're not going to die," Kolya tells him again, before adding a remarkably genuine, "and... thank you."

McKay shrugs. "It isn't my favourite flavour anyway - I like the cherry ones best, but we ran out of those last month."

Crumpling the now-empty wrapper, Kolya says, "when will this water of ours be safe to drink?"

"...Hour or so after we first put the tablets in."

Kolya nods. "We need to work out what we're going to do once the sun rises again," he continues, thinking aloud. "Just how much further do you think the Gate is?"

"I... don't know."

"Then guess. Just a rough estimate."

"No, really I don't. I have no idea how big this planet is."

Kolya goes completely silent. Eventually, he says, "So how, exactly, can you be sure we're even going in the right direction?" And that is **not** a good question to have to ask, especially at a time like this.

"I'm not. I'm assuming that my orientation was correct when we left the hive ship and that we transported in roughly the same area. But we were a little bit too busy to stop and ask for directions at the time."

"Are you telling me that we are, in effect, **lost** on an alien world?" Kolya asks, voice taking on that low, dangerous edge again.

McKay looks supremely unhappy. "Not 'lost'. Just... misplaced."

"And how, exactly, do you plan to **deal** with this little problem?"

"Walk until we reached the Gate. Why, did you have a better idea?"

"What I meant was: is there any way of knowing that we're not, in fact, walking in the opposite direction to our only way off this world?"

“What with, your boots?"

"Doctor, please, you're avoiding the question again," Kolya states. "If we don't get you to a suitable infirmary fairly soon... matters will get even worse."

"No really, what with? The high-tech equipment I can pull from my ass? I'm sorry. I'm not Superman. Don't you think if I knew a way I'd be using it?"

"Not necessarily. You can be **remarkably** evasive at times."

"Look, this is my life we're talking about. I'm not about to let you drag me up a TREE if I know how to get home," he says, voice rising a little too much. "I'm not lying to you. I have no reason to lie to you. I can't solve this and I have no ideas and... I'm useless, okay? There. I said it."

"...You're not useless," Kolya insists, in his rarely used meaningful-voice. "Trust me. We wouldn't be here if you were."

"Look, right here and now I am. Thanks for the ego-stroking but it really isn't the time or the location. I should never have agreed to come out here in the first place."

"But you did, and now we have to...-" Kolya pauses in mid-sentence, quite suddenly, now looking down at the ground, eyes searching.

“We have to what?"

Instead of answering, Kolya holds up a hand, not moving his gaze from the ground below. "There's something moving down there," he says, finally, very quiet.

"What?" Rodney stage-whispers.

Before Kolya can answer, further movement on the ground makes the situation quite clear. It's another dinosaur, and judging by the sudden scuffling noise, it has just spotted the fallen creature responsible for Rodney's injuries.

McKay looks alarmed, and gestures at Kolya to... something.

"Just stay quiet," Kolya whispers - though his grip tightens on the stunner again. "It will likely be too distracted to pose any kind of threat."

McKay nods, but has the worried-to-death look again. He closes his eyes to count in primes.

Down below, there are... what might count as happy happy eating noises - if you're a dinosaur. Kolya continues to stay very still, not wanting to have to find out the hard way if these creatures can climb trees...

McKay covers his mouth with his hand, looking very, very sick at the... crunching.

Kolya wonders idly why McKay doesn't look happier at the thought of his attacker getting some form of comeuppance...

Rodney looks increasingly ill, dry-gagging behind his hand, only because there's nothing much to lose keeping him from retching. But the shaking is enough to make the pain worse, and his breath catches as a result, making the nausea worse.

"Relax, Doctor," Kolya whispers. "It will be gone soon." Well... he hopes so, at least.

McKay nods, furiously, behind his hand and holds onto the tree to keep himself from... passing out of it.

Eventually, the creature below decides to wander off - though, by the time it does, it is almost too dark to tell. Up in the branches, it is growing colder, though, thankfully, there is almost no breeze. Kolya continues to stare down until he's fairly confident that the dinosaur has moved on, before letting his head rock back, feeling somewhat tired.

McKay's eyes are drifting closer and closer and... his head snaps back each time, trying to stay awake. He shuffles uncomfortably, trying to keep his legs raised.

"Sleep, Doctor," Kolya says to him. "We're going to be up here for a while."

"Don't... want to..." headshake, "fall..."

Kolya considers this for a moment. "You only have two options," he says. "Either we both shift position so I can hold onto you, or... I could tie you to the tree." And it takes a lot to be able to deliver **that** line so very levelly.

McKay blinks at him. "...Tie me... what are you... ins... what?" He doesn't sound all that lucid at all, a combination of pain, exhaustion, dehydration and low blood sugar finally kicking in.

"Tie you to the tree, yes," Kolya repeats. He's been carrying various bits of fabric from the clothes-cutting incident, and hopes that they might be enough to do something with.

"...What?" Rodney asks again, head falling and lifting, and falling and... not lifting quite so fast. "Uhno? Why?"

"So you can sleep without falling." And if Rodney doesn't get his head around this soon, Kolya fully intends to go ahead and do it anyway.

"Don'tneedsleep. Can go... days."

"Doctor, you are about to **pass out,** " Kolya insists, now starting to tear up pieces of fabric and knot them together.

McKay snorts, but it loses its effect somewhat from his being... listing heavily to one side. "Didn't sleep more... few hours for... years."

"Which is irrelevant, as you are clearly moments away from **dropping** right out of this tree."

"Tree?"

Kolya sighs, and gives up on trying to get through to McKay. He looks between the handful of knotted fabric, and the branches, trying to work out the best way to do this.

"Why are you here?" Rodney asks, blinking rapidly. "Where's Colonel Sheppard? Where's Colonel Carter? Aren't you evil?"

Just barely resisting the urge to say that Sheppard was eaten by a dinosaur, Kolya gives Rodney an odd look. "Yes," he says. "Undeniably so." Then, moving carefully, he shifts around, starting to tie Rodney to the tree - another thing he did not expect to be doing any time EVER.

McKay watches in mild, disconnected confusion, his lucidity clearly waning. "Is he going to rescue me then? Or is Sam? I used to like the evil people best," Rodney says, his eyes unfocusing, his voice just that bit higher pitched and getting fainter.

"There's no one else here, Doctor," Kolya says, quietly, as he works. "Just you, me, and a Stargate of unknown location." What a wonderful mix...

McKay shakes his head sadly, pityingly. "No difference. The hero always finds her. No matter the odds. Always some silly mistake... or no story." His head drifts to rest on one shoulder and he shivers. "Except in the story people don't die and they did..."

Tying the last knot, Kolya moves back to his own branch, settling against the trunk. "This isn't a story, McKay. This is real."

McKay smiles shakily, his eyes closing. "Tell me one instead, then."

"I never was any good at stories," Kolya remarks, staring into the distance through the leaves above. "I much prefer reality."

McKay is breathing shallowly, slowly drifting off and listing to one side rather heavily. It's a show of how exhausted he is that he hasn't moved much in the past few minutes, even while Kolya tied him up. "I don't," he says, pausing for so long that it sounds like he's asleep. "...reality isn't that good."

"No, it isn't," Kolya agrees. "But it's all we've got." He's drifting into the realm of meaningful conversation here... a sure sign that tiredness just set in with a vengeance.

McKay makes some little noise. It might be acknowledgement; it might just be that he's fallen asleep. It's rather hard to tell.

Kolya falls quiet too, feeling the day's highly unexpected exertion hit him all at once. Confident that he's suitably positioned so as not to drop out of the tree, he stops trying to stay awake at last.

McKay sleeps fitfully for a while, his eyes moving rapidly in his sleep... images of his piano teacher trying to eat him in the toilet and Kolya flashing brightly coloured chunky yellow and green torches in his eyes making him stir restlessly. And John scratching his legs, over and over, until he's begging them both to stop, to send the quack, the Scottish quack to wave his magic voodoo wand and stick pins in things because he doesn't want to be here, he wants to be home, with his cat, where no one ever calls and there's only Mensa meetings and no life-sucking monsters except on TV....

Kolya sleeps better, due to the lack of serious wounding, though his dreams are strange too. Before long, he's walking the dark corridors of the Genii bunker, but every time he gets to a door, he spots a dinosaur running in the other direction, and has to go and chase it. When he finally catches the dinosaur, it turns out to be a rather oddly-coloured cat, which promptly runs off again, leaving him back in the corridors with no clue as to why.

McKay whimpers in his sleep, but doesn't have the energy to thrash. He's already half-awake again, in the odd place where dreams start layering over reality. The tree is tall and on fire and he's burning and they're going to roast him alive and eat him and no one thinks to come save him because they don't really care. Words tumble senselessly out of him as he struggles weakly to get loose, whimpering in fear.

Kolya jumps awake, suddenly aware that McKay is making a lot of unexpected noise. Acting on instinct, mind still blurry from the dinosaur-chasing dream, he clambers across to the other branch, trying to shake Rodney back to some form of consciousness. "Hey! Doctor, calm down, you're all right." Which, alas, is hardly true, but still...

McKay wakes jerkily, eyes suddenly wide with fear. "Oh god I'm not the person you want, let me go," Rodney says immediately, trying to get his upper body free. "Oh god no, no..."

"McKay!" Kolya says, more loudly, needing to snap him out of it. "Listen to me!"

McKay stops struggling again, having exhausted himself. His name seems to get his attention, though, and his focus snaps back to Kolya, questioningly.

"You were dreaming," the commander extrapolates. "Try to stay calm, unless you **want** to attract more of those things to our location."

McKay doesn't say anything, just looks at him, breathing fast.

Kolya keeps a hand on the doctor's shoulder, trying to give him some grounding in reality. "Doctor... can you hear me?" he tries, still unsure as to whether McKay is actually conscious.

McKay would be amused if he realised how cliché he was. "...'ere am I?"

Kolya sighs, knowing how truly bizarre the answer to this question actually is. "Up a tree on the Planet of the Dinosaurs," he states, tone completely level.

"Oh," Rodney says, weakly. "Wake me when it's normal then."

"I doubt that will happen any time soon," Kolya replies. "Go back to sleep."

McKay slumps. "...painkillers?"

"Not unless you're carrying any."

“Oh."

"Sleep," Kolya repeats. "Before you...-" And then he falls instantly silent, as, nearby, there is a sudden, heavy THUD.

McKay gasps. "What was that?" he asks in a forced whisper.

There is a further THUD, and Kolya seizes the stunner. "I don't know," he whispers back, "but I think... it's getting closer." Off to the right... distant branches are starting to move.

"...Not.... good." Red-rimmed eyes suddenly focussing with fear. "Kolya. If it's a Tyrann- if it's big, you need to stay still. Don't move. Not unless it's going to eat you. And some of them might spit poison. And some of them might climb or club or gore you." This is Rodney trying to be helpful, in case something happens.

Kolya shifts very close to him, doing his best to keep them both covered with the stunner, before staying very still, as Rodney said. By now it's clear that something bloody big is walking towards them, through the trees, occasionally emitting a low, rumbling sound.

Rodney's scared, and it's on the tip of his tongue, but he wouldn't even tell John so he sure as hell isn't telling someone who might use it against him for more than teasing. He shudders a bit, but tenses painfully in an effort to keep still. He hates being tied, being defenceless and unable to run, but he doesn't want Kolya to move now and give them away, so he has no choice, really. "Look. If we die... I'm sorry I wasn't flying better," he whispers. "I'm an astrophysicist. I'm supposed to be behind a desk. And... you're less of a bastard sometimes and you really should consider getting a weasel, maybe, they like it underground..."

Kolya is less convinced that they're about to die, but nevertheless, he actually says, "Doctor, you were instrumental in getting us this far... and that is quite something." Though he's not entirely sure if the 'less of a bastard' comment is a good one.

McKay nods a little. "Right," he says, sounding very earnest and serious. But all this still silence really isn't him. Not that he knows what else to say right now. Other than, "I think I'm going to faint."

“That would not be helpful," Kolya remarks, levelling the stunner in the direction of the approaching... something. The branches a little distance away from them start to move - and suddenly, a very, very large head appears out of the gloom.

Rodney faints.

Kolya notes the doctor passing out, but is somewhat distracted by the huge... whatever it is, which is now staring at him. It's big, with a bump along its head, large eyes, and an almost bemused expression. After a moment, it starts chomping at the leaves on the nearby tree, seeming really rather calm. Nevertheless, Kolya does not stop watching it, stunner still held ready.

McKay is still away with the pterosaurs.

The Very Big Dinosaur is still chewing away happily, so Kolya takes a moment to try tapping McKay on the side of the head. "Doctor? Doctor? Wake up," he says, still quiet.

McKay doesn't move for a moment, then bumps his head into Kolya's hand. "...theory of unif... huh?"

"Doctor," Kolya says, again, "you passed out." He's talking to Rodney, but doesn't take his eyes off the nearby creature, still wondering if it might be plotting something.

"...powernap," he says, groggily. "Did it bring penicillin?"

"No. It did not."

McKay drops his head forwards onto Kolya, beyond caring if it pisses him off. "Then I don't like it."

Kolya ignores the sudden contact for the moment, still rather too focused on whether or not they're about to be eaten. "It hasn't bitten you in half, yet," he observes. "Things could be worse."

"...Might be quicker if it did."

"Or it might take a very, very long time." Far from biting either of them in half, however, the Very Big Dinosaur seems more interested in the local assortment of leaves.

"...I'd like to think you'd shoot me first," he says. "But I'm not sure." A sigh, but not too deep. "How long was I out?"

"Only a few moments, though I have no idea how long either of us was asleep for."

McKay nods. "Normal nights. Standard rotation." Remembered from somewhere. "I guess there isn't any food either."

"No. Not unless you like leaves as much as..." -he gestures carefully at the dinosaur- "...*it* does."

McKay shakes his head, even though it's in Kolya's back. He doesn't shake it much. "No. I'm... going to go into hypoglycaemic shock, if I haven't already. I might... say things I don't mean."

Kolya has to force himself not to take advantage of this, because getting off the planet alive is more important than interrogating a half-delirious Rodney whilst up a tree. No, really, it is. "When the sun rises... I will try to find something we can eat," he says, wondering exactly how he's going to do that.

"Right. Because McDino's is just up that... grove."

Kolya glares at him. "I am trying to be helpful, here, Doctor," he says.

"Sorry," he says, without sounding acerbic - but then again not especially apologetic either. "Impending doom and all that."

Kolya is about to reply, when the Very Big Dinosaur decides to amble closer. In a moment, it is staring more or less straight at them - though, thankfully, not trying to eat the tree out from under their feet.

McKay is suddenly very still and not breathing. "Tell me it was just eating trees and not monkeys in the trees."

"As far as I know... it was just eating the leaves," Kolya replies - very, very quietly.

McKay shudders in a deep breath slowly, then relaxes. "Probably not a predator. Not that I'm a biologist."

Kolya nods, but doesn't say anything else, as the Very Big Dinosaur nibbles at the leaves on the adjacent branch, making the whole tree rock a little.

"Okay... but I'm starting to freak out a bit."

"Somehow... I doubt shooting it will do any good. Just... stay calm, and hopefully, it will tire of us and move on..."

"That's isn't all. I think I'm going a bit blind."

Kolya actually turns to look at him. "That... is not good." He's not sure what else to say.

"It's happened before," he says. "But... no, okay, things are fuzzy. I **knew** I should have asked for more pie."

The Very Big Dinosaur now starts to amble off, rattling branches as it goes, making that low, rumbling sound again. Once it is far enough away, Kolya looks back at Rodney. "You should go to sleep again," he says. "The problem is most likely exhaustion."

"So I can die without knowing it instead?"

Kolya glares at him. "Doctor. Go back to sleep. You are in bad enough shape as it is."

"I can't sleep on command. I suffer from insomnia. I have an over-active mind. It never stops."

Kolya disentangles himself from Rodney and climbs back onto his own branch, saying nothing else.

McKay sits back. "Are you going to untie me any time soon?"

"That depends on whether you're going to start passing out again."

"....no?"

Kolya gives him The Look. "You don't sound very convinced."

"How can I possibly go to sleep knowing I'm tied to a tree with you in it?"

"You did before." He doesn't sound hurt. Nope. Not at all...

"I was in a state of complete exhaustion and blood loss and you probably shouldn't have let me anyway."

"What was I **supposed** to do? You were delirious, and I wasn't exactly on form either."

"I'm not the quack... but aren't you supposed to keep me from concussi- no, shock? Wait..."

"I am supposed to keep you alive," Kolya replies, like he means it. "And I am making all of this up as I go along. Genii survival training does not cover **dinosaurs**."

"Neither does advanced wormhole physics," Rodney says. "Look. I'm... not comfortable like this. And I think my legs dropped off."

Kolya shakes his head. "All right... but if you fall, don't try to blame me." Carefully, he clambers back over to Rodney, pulling out the small combat knife, and using it to slice through the strips of fabric - gathering them up in case they are needed again.

"If I fall, I'll likely die anyway," Rodney says, watching him carefully with that knife, before moving to carefully get some feeling back in his limbs and rubbing at them. He still looks pale and weak and isn't moving very fast, but he's somewhat more lucid for the moment, though the adrenaline high is leaving him with a touch of the shakes. "What do they teach you then?"

"Not as much as they should," Kolya replies, settling back onto his own branch. "Considering the low number of long missions we run, survival training is not ranked particularly highly. Mostly it's just basic field survival... and how to deal with the aftermath of Wraith attacks."

"What?" Rodney asks. Partially because all (real) knowledge is good. Partially because he's still trying to be in denial about the Genii and knives and him. Partially because it's something to listen to to distract him and keep him awake.

"Evasion tactics, field medicine, finding alternative food sources... I am sure you were taught many of the same things," says Kolya, offhand. "Though most of that training assumed a greater array of equipment than we have."

McKay snorts. "I'm still technically the head scientist. Until... before we came here, I would never have dreamed of going into- 'the field', is that what they say? I was... a desk guy. A lab guy."

Kolya gives him an odd little look. "Why did you change your mind?"

"I.... I don't know," he says, sounding a little more off-guard than usual. "This is what I'd always watched and read as a kid but... back on earth it was... it was the Samantha Carters, not the Rodney McKays. Here it... felt different. More... open. That and I couldn't let the airforce and the technicians have all the fun," he says with a smile - attempting a joke without really being mean, for once.

"I see," Kolya replies, with a slow nod. "So... you felt the need to be something more than you were? To take risks because you believed them to be worth it?"

McKay looks at him curiously - and he's far too open most of the time. "I'd spent my life... theorising. Here I could go out and... do things. See things. And... yes, I suppose I did think the risks were worth it. It's sad to say that even with you and the Wraith and the small children all trying to kill or maim me, this is... the happiest I've been here. Apart from the lack of coffee." He looks out into the distance. "...and cats."

"Maybe those things add to it all, rather than detract from it," Kolya muses, in what **sounds** like an offhand, thoughtful voice. "Maybe you **needed** life to be more... interesting."

"...The certain doom and life-sucking aliens and knowing..." he turns to face him, looking very earnest. "Another me died."

"What do you mean?" Kolya asks, somewhat surprised and more than a little confused.

"There was... look, it's a long story and we're not entirely sure but there was a time travelling device. And the other Elizabeth... she was all that was left. Atlantis sank. I... died. I'd only just arrived, and I died."

"Something was clearly done to alter that." Deep down, Kolya wonders what life would have been like from his own point of view in that... other time.

"Yeah," Rodney says, his voice... a little odd. "She changed things. Stopped it sinking." His attention fixes resolutely on Kolya now, though. "But... I know. I'd only been in the galaxy a few hours and I... chose it. I didn't let them come back for me, and risk... everything."

And Kolya gives him a very, very slight smile. "Are you surprised by that?"

McKay refuses to answer that, but rubs at the outside of one of his legs.

Kolya smiles a little again, reading into this, wondering exactly what answer McKay might have given.

"Would you. Die. For them?"

"That depends entirely on who 'they' are, and what benefits my death would bring."

"The Genii. I... never mind."

Kolya gives him that odd look again. "If the circumstances were right... then yes. I would."

McKay nods, looking down again, avoidant.

"Would you?" Kolya asks. "Not in that time, but in this one?"

"I already have done once, and nearly done twi- many times. So I think we know."

" **You** haven't," the commander points out, levelly. " **He** did. From what I understand of time... it's not the same thing."

"No, but... I walked into the energy field! It could have eaten me! I faced down the Wraith! Of... course I would. If I had to."

"You sound somewhat hesitant about that." Right now it's hard to tell if Kolya is still in meaningful-conversation mode, or has gone back to verbal-poking.

McKay sighs soul-deep, fingers toying with the edge of his shirt. "It's... different if you're already in pain. If it's quick and immediate it's... easier. But... I can't remember being in this much pain in my life, not physically. And... why am I even telling you this?"

Kolya looks over at him again. "Perhaps you just needed to say it."

“Shoot me," Rodney says suddenly. "In the legs. Please. I won't feel them then."

Even coming from Rodney McKay, this is something of a surprising request... though, in a way, it makes an odd kind of sense. Kolya's hand closes around the stunner as he says, "All right... if you're sure."

“Just... I'll probably fall out if you shoot me without, you know." Rapid, expansive hand gestures and he gives up, looking thoroughly miserable. "Yes." It hurts.

Kolya gestures to the branch just above Rodney. "Hold on to that," he says. "It should be enough to brace yourself with." Then, carefully, he shifts position, aiming the stunner.

McKay's bottom lip shakes and he looks almost as though he's going to change his mind - but then he reaches up, feeling horribly exposed, and holds on until his knuckles are white and the tension is visible all along him. Eyes closed, he starts babbling. "Now I'm doing this because I trust there's nothing you could do while I'm stunned that you couldn't already and you said you don't want to kill me but that didn't include not hurting me but as you've already hurt me, even if it was the dinosaur I still think it should be your fault too..."

Kolya gives him The Look again, but doesn't start arguing - for the time being, at least. He pauses for a second, and then fires the stunner, filling the air with a sudden burst of light.

McKay makes a choked, strangled sound of shock, convulsing for a minute and visibly only staying upright because he's holding on, his closed eyes wet. He concentrates on his breathing, but still won't let go of that branch, slowly trying to get over the shock. "...Thank you," he says, politely, possibly some vestigial sense of Canadianity showing through.

Kolya lowers the stunner again and nods to him, before settling back on his own branch. He's oddly quiet now, resting the weapon across his knees, staring at the still-dark sky again - like he wants to say something, but is refusing to.

"Look. You and I... we both know what's going to happen if we don't get eaten. But... can I ask for one thing? Or, two, I suppose."

"What is it?" Kolya inquires, looking at him again, but neither asking about - nor denying - what Rodney is really saying.

"Just... tell them I'm dead," the doctor says suddenly, deadly serious. "Because if you don't, they'll come looking for me, and they'll fight you to the bitter end and either way, my people are going to die. Your people are going to die. And they shouldn't. Not because of me. The colonel..." he has to stop, to force his head up again, to try to keep the emotion out of his voice. He fails. "If they think I'm gone that won't happen. As much as I'd love to be rescued I couldn't live with thinking people died for me, okay? And... all the people there added together are probably smarter than me on my own, even if I am a great asset, they'll cope without me..."

Kolya is really quite surprised by this, even if it makes more sense once he considers it. Rodney's I'm-doomed nobility has shown through before, more than once - but even so, it still feels unexpected. Anything he says in response to this is going to come across as hostile - but why is he suddenly **concerned** about that? It never presented a problem before. "They have no reason to believe that **either** of us is still alive," he reasons. "Your people will merely assume that you died on the Wraith hive ship."

“They... they will..." Rodney shakes his head. "You didn't know that was what happened? Why the Wraith woke up? Because some of our people were captured... Colonel Sheppard wouldn't leave them behind. That's why. That's what started the whole thing off."

"Are you saying that Sheppard will have gone to the Wraith ship, looking for you?" Kolya asks, quickly, distaste hinting his voice.

"Possibly. If he could," Rodney says, weakly and pathetically. "Please. He'd... he'd do it for you. If the situation were different."

Kolya nods. "All right," he agrees, still unsure as to why he doesn't think all of this qualifies as a very good thing.

"...If I help you, do you promise you'll leave them alone?"

"Yes," Kolya tells him, although, in all honesty, it isn't a promise he can make - and neither is he sure if it's a promise he **wants** to make. But he says it nonetheless, knowing that it is what Rodney needs to hear.

McKay nods mutely, lowering his arms and wrapping them around himself. "I just keep waiting to wake up in my apartment, you know. And find this was all a horrible dream."

"It never quite works like that," Kolya remarks. "Life has a tendency to... keep on going, regardless of how much we wish it could all turn out not to be real." And somewhere, behind the words, there's a definite sense of personal experience lurking there.

"I know," he says. "It just shouldn't have happened to me." A sigh. "Is the water at all drinkable, or did that screw up too?"

Kolya retrieves one of the boots from where it is still lodged, taking care not to knock the others. "It should be," he says, offering the boot to Rodney.

McKay is making a face of displeasure knowing that a foot's been in here but... what else can he do? Holding his nose with one hand, he takes a sip - and it's clear from his expression that it isn't at all pleasant. At least he doesn't choke or spew, though.

Kolya decides to risk drinking too, and, like McKay, doesn't appear all that happy about the taste. But right now, it's water, and it's drinkable... and hell, did that last conversation actually involve Rodney willingly surrendering? This is turning into a **very** strange experience...

"We should drink your boots first. Because... I'm clearly not going anywhere," Rodney says, looking into the bottom of the boot.

Kolya nods. "You do realise that now you will **have** to let me carry you?" he asks.

"Well, I was considering rolling to the gate..."

Which Kolya takes as a grudging 'yes.' "You really ought to get some more sleep whilst it's still dark," he adds. "Especially as we have no idea how much longer it will take us to find the gate..."

McKay nods, trying to move a bit, but his legs are numb and dead to the world, so it's an abortive attempt. "Right. Because sleeping up a tree is what I do best in the world. I know, I know, shut up," he says, waving a hand defensively. "Just... tense, is all."

Arguing with Rodney McKay at goodness-knows-what-time in the morning, up a tree on an alien world... probably not the easiest activity he could have chosen. Kolya falls silent again, wondering if Rodney will take the hint. Unlikely. But still.

McKay is quiet for a while, breathing loudly in the dark. He tries to keep quiet. Really he does. But eventually he whispers, loudly. "...So... Kolya?"

Kolya sighs. "Yes, Doctor?"

"I wondered if you were asleep."

"Not quite." He sounds... mildly irritated, though not particularly surprised.

"Right."

Again, Kolya goes silent, trying to avoid provoking conversation.

McKay waits for a while. "I can't sleep. Clearly."

"Clearly."

"Look, I..." He gives in, gritting his teeth. "Never mind."

Kolya sighs again, looking over at him. "Say it. Say whatever it is or you'll be **trying** to say it all night."

McKay tries to ignore that for a while, but the need to speak overcomes any kind of control he has. "That's just it. I don't know **what** I want to say, just that I want to say it."

“You must have **some** idea," Kolya states, wondering if there's any way he can prompt Rodney to say... whatever it is.

"Not really. Sometimes I just... talk."

"I had noticed."

McKay scowls. "Why don't you ever talk, then?"

Kolya scowls right back at him. "Do you **really** want to listen to me talking, Doctor?" he asks. "Given our history, it is hardly likely to help matters."

“...How could you possibly make it worse? You hate me. You hate my friends. You want half of them dead and the rest alive only for what you can get from them. Unless there's something more I don't know, I don't see how you could do any harm." He shrugs. "And, I want to know. Believe it or not, I don't actually think the entire universe revolves around me. Not all the time, anyway."

"I care about my people," Kolya throws back at once. "What I did - what I **do** \- was all in the name of protecting the Genii... and following orders. And that means something to me, without needing justification. Why do you think I feel like this? Your people waltzed into my galaxy like you owned it, set in motion events that may very well get us all killed, and, in **certain** cases, are responsible for far too many Genii deaths. Maybe that would mean nothing to you... but it means something to me."

"We did NOT act like we owned it. We came to look for something to save **our** people from the aliens who stole the Ancient technology in our own galaxy and used it to enslave all of Humanity. All of Humanity. Just like the Wraith here... except they have glowing eyes and are technically snakes, but that's not the point. We came looking for allies. We didn't know about the Wraith. We were trying to protect **our** people and the Athosians too. Are you telling me if you'd been in the same situation, you wouldn't have tried to save your people if they got captured and you didn't know who by? Because I think you're operating on double standards. We're sorry about that, all right? Do you think WE like having the Wraith trying to kill us any more than you do?" 

Rodney scowls. "We never killed anyone of your people until they came to take Atlantis from us and kill us. Sora's father died because he was captured - for killing one of the prisoners, if I recall, too. And if that's what your people think... that someone's... expendable... then you can't really care for them all that much anyway."

Kolya lets him talk, wondering if **this** is what Rodney wanted to say. When the tirade dies down, he says, "We didn't think **Tyrus** was expendable. If your team hadn't left him to **die** just because he wasn't one of your own people, this whole conflict might never have happened. But no.”

“And as for what happened with the Wraith... I like to think that, were I to encounter such a situation, that I would not blindly run in to save them, regardless of the consequences. Rescuing your allies is perfectly understandable. But no matter how much you care for them, they are not worth an entire galaxy. As for what happened on Atlantis... there is defensive killing, and there is overkill. Colonel Sheppard murdered fifty-five men in a matter of seconds - one of them being the son of a very close friend of mine. And if that wouldn't make **you** feel strongly, if placed in the same situation... then you are either lying wildly, or very, very heartless. **Doctor**." So yes, he just rose to the bait, and yes, he just went off into tirade-mode too, but maybe a lot of this needed to be said. Again, in some cases.

"So save Tyrus at all costs, but not anyone else - like we did. You can't have it both ways, Kolya. We did all we could. I will not let you talk about Teyla like that. She is one of the most remarkable people I know. She's kind, right down to the core. She's been ostracised because she wants to save her people - she'll do anything for someone else. And as for Colonel Sheppard... you were trying to kill him. You already killed two of his men, and had Elizabeth and me - and how did he know what had happened to everyone else? But would it have been better if fifty-five of our people fought fifty-five of yours and killed them that way? You would have done exactly the same. That's... that's war, commander, and you should know it.” 

The doctor closes his eyes, centring himself. "I'm sorry your friend died. And - up until recently - no, I wouldn't know what you felt. But now I do, and I wish I didn't. I'm sorry he's dead, but I'm not sorry Elizabeth is still alive and so is Colonel Sheppard. And I just wish we'd never come to trade with you so no one had died at all." Sigh. "And you still haven't answered what I asked in the first place. I didn't mean, why don't you talk to me? I meant, why don't you talk? You... don't seem the type."

Kolya looks like he has a **great** deal to say in response to Rodney's second tirade, but he reduces it down to, "My point is that your people started this... and all we could do is react. We found ourselves facing a new, technologically-superior enemy - and did what we felt was necessary in those circumstances. And as for your question... I do talk. When there is something to be said."

"We screwed up. Fine. We admit to that, but your people have been hostile and uncooperative and downright... horrible since then. And if **I** can be adult enough to admit to being wrong, so can you, that's all." Eyes closed, and he tries to take a hold of himself. "Don't you ever... talk for the sake of it? For company?"

Kolya glares at him. "If there is something to be said," he repeats.

“Look. I agreed to come with you, if I don't die from... everything. The least you could do is keep me company. I'm not asking you to like me. Not many people do anyway. It's just I'm in rather a lot of pain and I'm not very happy and I could really do with the distraction right now."

"...Then you should go back to **sleep** ," Kolya half-hisses at him. "What could we possibly talk about? Our lives are so utterly different - and we aren't exactly likely to share favourite pastimes."

“I can't! I can't sleep at the best of times, and up a tree whilst in inordinate amounts of pain and with you isn't really optimal! And I don't know! I keep trying to find things. People who are different are supposed to find it stimulating, but I'm not the one to ask, because before I came here the person I had the most meaningful relationship with was my CAT, so you could help me out a bit."

Kolya resists the urge to burst out that yes, he could talk about meaningful relationships, except that the only thing he could really say was how he'd had to tell Athos that Idos was dead, and that is something he doesn't want to be reminded of, now or ever. So instead, he continues to glare at Rodney. "If you want conversation, make it. Unless you **want** me to tell you about interrogation tactics..."

"Fine. Do you ever play good cop?"

Though the term is not a Genii one, Kolya has a pretty good idea what McKay means by this. "Yes," he says. "Though not often." And damn, he hadn't expected **that** previous remark to do anything but kill all conversation for quite some time!

"But you prefer to be the bad cop. Makes sense, I suppose. It's supposed to be more fun acting the villain and I always thought they were cooler. Do you know why you prefer what you do?"

Well, of course he does. But is he going to **say** so? "Because it works," he answers. "I know how to do it and I get results."

“And you don't like challenging yourself then?"

"Of course I do," Kolya throws back. "But not when important information is at stake. Interrogation is not an arena for personal challenge. It is an art." And hell, yes, he **did** just say that. Clearly the lack of sleep is starting to affect him.

"I guess it is. I was never good at any art, didn't have the heart for it, so I couldn't tell."

"It is. You have to understand what actions will produce the results you want - to know how and why people react as they do."

"And do you know that about yourself?"

"Of course." And no, there is no way he's going to go down **that** road.

"Are you sure?" Rodney says, with a faint little smile. "I don't think you really can."

"That is because you and I have had... different training. Besides, with practice - you learn to know."

"How do you know you aren't lying to yourself?"

"Because reading people is an essential element during interrogation. And outside of it."

McKay shrugs.

Kolya doesn't say anything else, but smirks slightly. Idly, he takes out the small combat knife, running the edge of a finger down the blade, as if thinking. Or, possibly, as if trying to wind Rodney up.

"You know what, that isn't even funny, and you've read me all wrong," Rodney says, looking off to the side as if looking for another dinosaur. He does tense a little, but he's really not all that worried. Not more than he already was, anyway.

"Have I, Doctor?" Kolya says, casually. "Are you **sure** about that?"

"Go on then. Tell me what you know," Rodney says, arms folded over his chest - just not tightly enough to hurt.

"I know that you're trying to keep talking to prevent yourself from thinking about this situation," Kolya begins, tone level. "You are perfectly aware of where you will end up once we find the Gate, so you ask yourself if you could really give up your life for your own people, because you might just be in that situation. And I know, beneath all your denial, that you are **well** aware that I could get a great deal out of you if I tried."

McKay closes his eyes, shakes his head. "I've already told you I'll come. But you're still wrong. That isn't the only reason I'm talking."

"You're trying to form a connection," Kolya adds, looking across at him. "It happens in situations like this."

"And why would I talk at all times if that was it? You're not the only person who I've gifted with my conversation."

"No. But right now... who else do you have?"

"I could talk to the dinosaurs."

"But they would not talk back... which seems to make all the difference."

"They'd insult me less."

Kolya shrugs. "Then go right ahead, Doctor."

"Why don't you want to?" Rodney says, his insecurity showing now. "If you know that people do this in these situations, why are you alienating me?"

Kolya decides there's nothing else left but to be blunt. "Doctor, when we get back to my homeworld, you and I are going to have a long time for conversation, I promise you. But right now, I would much prefer a chance to sleep - otherwise, we will never even make it **to** my homeworld." That might not be the **only** answer to Rodney's question... though it is a valid one nonetheless.

"And in the meantime I'll go insane from not having slept and having nothing to occupy myself with and I'll be no use to anyone," he says, but there's no heat in it. "Fine. Sleep. Just don't expect me to be co-operative or even polite if you won't."

Kolya goes quiet, trying to clear his mind enough to allow sleep to set in again. It isn't easy, though, considering what they've been talking about.

McKay sits sullenly, trying to ignore the dull throb in his legs and failing. But he's quiet. Sad, resigned, but quiet.

Eventually, Kolya actually manages to get back to sleep, drifting this time into a dreamless void, calm and silent.

McKay doesn't say anything even when the sun comes up, his arms still around himself - he's been cold and shivering all night - his lip chewed raw in frustration. He steadfastly refuses to look at Kolya.

Light filtering in through the branches finally drags the commander back to consciousness. He blinks, a great deal of yesterday's events suddenly coming straight to mind, as these things tend to do in the first moments after waking. When the mental onslaught stops, he looks over at Rodney, oddly glad to find that the man is still here and still alive.

McKay ignores him steadfastly, trying not to even let his breathing change to show he's noticed Kolya's awake.

"Doctor? How are you feeling?" Kolya knows this is unlikely to generate a particularly friendly response, but it needs to be asked.

McKay snaps his head round and **glares**.

Kolya doesn't care. Provoking a response was enough. Flatly, he says, "We will need to get moving soon."

"Right. Because I can really move. You know, I feel like running a **marathon**."

"Do you **want** to be left in this tree?" Kolya snaps, more than a little coldly.

"Quite frankly, no I don't, but the prospect of moving when just breathing is intense pain, just to be treated like a dog by you until we possibly reach your planet where I'll be treated like even more of a dog but just a performing one and where no one cares about my feelings let alone my civil liberties is hardly more appealing."

"I am **trying** to protect you and get you off this planet alive," Kolya throws back. "But you are not exactly helping!"

"Oh. How? I have no weapon and I have no LEGS left because a DINOSAUR ATE THEM I haven't SLEPT and you left me on my own awake for several hours. Forgive me for being unable to pull a miracle out of my ass THIS time."

"I am not **asking** you for a miracle! I am not asking you to do anything beyond co-operating enough to make it vaguely possible for me to get you off this planet ALIVE!"

"Well you didn't want to co-operate enough with ME to keep me from going INSANE WITH PAIN SHOCK WORRY AND BEING STUCK ON AN ALIEN PLANET WITH A MAN WHO LIKES TO CUT YOU UP NOW DID YOU?"

Kolya works on putting his mostly-dry boots back on as he says, somewhat exasperatedly, "I can't save your LIFE if I'm PASSING OUT FROM EXHAUSTION!"

“Maybe it would be better if we both just did. No. Kill me. Really. I don't want to die of starvation and I've always hated the thought, but I'd still rather die than have to spend one more minute with YOU."

Kolya gives him a worryingly flat glare, then calmly starts climbing out of the tree, the stunner slung over his shoulder, all the while not saying a word.

McKay waits until he's almost down. "Fine. Fine. Don't even let me die like a man. I see. You BASTARD. I would NEVER have done this to you. You utter BASTARD. You... you are worse than my FATHER!" he spits, the sudden venom in his tone disturbingly more emotive than even he's been before.

Kolya, of course, has absolutely no intention of leaving Rodney behind, but is feeling vindictive enough to make it look like he intends to. In fact, all he wants to do is check that the ground below is clear, and that there's no sign of anything sharp-toothed and hungry lurking nearby. He moves far enough from the tree to be out of sight, pausing for a few moments to let the effect settle in. The fact of the matter is... he knows the good doctor too well.

McKay stays for a while. And a while longer. And a while longer... and then he's moving, squirming to lie on his stomach with an OOF, contemplating trying to lower himself to the floor without dying.

Eventually, Kolya walks back to the foot of the tree, and calmly looks up at Rodney. "Say what you like, Doctor, you owe me your life even more than I owe you mine. Now, are you going to be more co-operative, or shall I leave you up there?"

McKay is slung over a branch. "If you mean, 'silent', then no, I'm not going to be. Are you going to be more of a reasonable Human being?"

"No, I mean not spending all your time explaining how very much you hate me." Without answering the second question, he starts climbing the tree again, halting once he is back on the edge of his own branch.

McKay stays sprawled, because moving was difficult and painful and he doesn't want to move back any time soon. "If you didn't spend most of your time trying to MAKE me hate you I might not."

"I am not trying to make you hate me. If I was, believe me, matters would be much worse."

"You aren't doing anything to stop it. Why? In case you discover we're Human after all, and not the monsters you want us to be - or want you to be? Is that what all this is about?"

"I already **know** that you're Human 'after all,' Doctor. I never believed otherwise. And we are not having this argument again."

"Fine. Push me out of the tree then, because I am not being around someone who treats me like I'm not worth the time of day again, even if that's how you view Humanity, and not just me this time. Because I'm tired of it."

At this, something in Kolya snaps. One foot braced on either branch, and one hand on the branch above, he seizes the front of Rodney's jacket - managing to avoid the wound beneath - and pushes him back far enough so as to hold him half-over the edge of the branch. A very understandable sense of deja-vu hits Kolya at this, as he glares right at Rodney, looking particularly annoyed.

McKay's first reaction is to struggle, to try to get back safe, but then he gets hold of himself. Maybe it's the pain. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Maybe it's months of stress finally taking its toll. He goes still, but the panic seems to have passed. "I'd rather be dead than be you, do you know that? Because even though you say you cared for people like your friend, you aren't actually living. You're just hate and pain and that's no way to be. Believe me, I tried it. I don't want to look at it any more. I've seen enough. I'm not going anywhere, so you can either do... something, or you can act like a PERSON or I'll fling myself out the tree anyway and if I survive that I'll crawl on my belly rather than be here."

"Listen to me **very** carefully, Doctor," Kolya says, in a low, quiet hiss. "I am not leaving you behind, and I am not going to kill you. I am going to get you off this planet, regardless of how very, VERY difficult you make it - because both of us know that, whatever you say, you do not want to die. And I don't care if you hate me, or deny my Humanity, or refuse to speak to me, because **I** am all **you** have and **you** are all **I** have. Even if that means nothing to you in your **enlightened** state, it means something to me."

"Deny your Humanity?" Rodney asks in a strangled, slightly cracked laughing tone. "When I've spent all this time trying to save your life too and TALK to you? When I've been trying to see past whatever it is that makes you... so... insane, so we can communicate and... I told you about my CAT!" he says, which makes perfect sense in his head. "You are INSANE."

"You have spent most of our time together telling me that I am a homicidal maniac who is out to hurt you!" Kolya half-yells back, his own voice wavering a lot now as his emotional core starts to break through. "Why would I want to communicate with someone who sees me as nothing but that? No. I didn't want a connection..." - which is partially a lie- "...and I've been trying to avoid making one ever since we got here!" - which is **entirely** a lie.

"But you ARE!" Rodney says, because it's patently true, to him. "You... you are. And..." his eyes go wide, wondering if this is some sort of trick and reverse psychology or... something or... double-guessing making his head hurt now. "What am I supposed to think? You..." his voice goes quiet, "You were going to kill Doctor Weir and Colonel Sheppard and... I know what happened. I don't block all my bad memories out. I don't... I don't understand you, all right? Or maybe I do and I don't like the fact I do. But it's kind of hard to see you as a person if you do nothing but ignore me and shout at me or use me. I don't care how immature it is. I just want... to be noticed."

Kolya is grounded in reality just enough to notice that Rodney is wavering. Not moving, but holding the aggressive tone back this time, he says, "Did it ever occur to you, Doctor, that I **did** notice you? That you were always the one I wanted alive?"

"I know more," Rodney says. "I'm the genius. The one who fixes things. The one who has to solve everything five minutes before it goes wrong and stop ten things falling apart at once. I was way ahead of where everyone else is now when I was in tenth grade. Of course you'd prefer me alive." Which is when the fight leaves him again and he slumps. "Talk to me, is all I asked. But no one really does."

"I explained before as to why I wasn't talking to you," Kolya replies, just about levelly. "And you instantly proved me right by re-starting the same old argument. I don't want to hear it again." Without another word, he hauls McKay back onto the branch, and climbs back onto his own, rocking against the trunk with a very strange expression in his eyes.

Rodney drops his head backwards, his hands falling on either side of him - not even strong enough to keep them up now. "Well, when you convince me that you wouldn't rather see all my friends dead and me writhing in pain, then I'll stop. And if we were just talking about something other than how much we dislike one another, the subject wouldn't even come up. But seeing as you'd rather I went slowly nuts from pain, starvation and exhaustion than take my mind off it, we'll never know for certain."

"No. We won't," Kolya snaps. He says no more than that, staring at the sky again, trying to re-gain his focus - which is not easy, considering how incredibly difficult it can be to spend this long in close proximity to Rodney McKay without losing it completely.

"So that's it." Rodney ducks his head. "Please shoot me in the head, then. I'll at least get some peace."

"No," comes the flat reply. "Now, either focus on helping to get us off this planet alive, or shut up and let me think."

McKay starts reciting pi to several.... dozen decimal places in his head, lips moving, trying to calm- "This isn't my field of expertise, Commander."

Kolya sighs. "We need to get moving again. How much pain are you in and am I going to be able to carry you?" This is as much him thinking out loud as it is some form of communication - and Kolya thinking out loud is rarely a good sign.

“...On a scale of little to lots? More. And there's no way I'm moving without you shooting me again."

"If I shoot you, it will make moving you even more difficult," Kolya points out.

McKay gives him his most put-out look. "If you don't, then there will be some manly overcome-by-pain-ness and it will be even harder."

"If I do, you will be even less able to **move** ," Kolya repeats, emphasising the words in his don't-argue-with-me voice.

McKay looks at him frankly. "I don't think I've ever been in this much pain in my life," he says, with that earnest tone of voice of his, the one he uses when he's just stating fact. No hint of deceit to him. It pains him to admit it without snark. "I've been trying to tell you. I'm... not sure I can."

Kolya's voice becomes just a little less hostile as he replies, "You have to. If we don't get you off this planet soon... you'll die."

McKay shakes his head just ever so slightly. "I'm... I'm not good with pain, as you already know," he smiles weakly, self-consciously. "It's... you have no idea how much it hurts."

"I know - but if you stay here, you will **die** ," Kolya repeats, somewhat unable to grasp why Rodney doesn't quite get this.

McKay's eyes shutter slowly shut, his lips pressed in a thin line. Then he nods, once. "...Okay." Possibly the shortest response he's given anyone since arriving in the galaxy.

"All right," Kolya says, quietly. "Now, we need to get you out of this tree, and then set off in the direction we were heading yesterday. And you're going to have to let me carry you."

“Which is, of course, the easiest thing in the world," Rodney replies, droll.

"Easier than getting you up here." And now Kolya's moving again, checking the branches below, trying to work out the best way to do this. "I'll lower you onto the branch below," he says, still thinking, "then climb down to the ground. If you then swing over the side, I'll be able to help you to the floor."

"Swing to the..." but he shakes his head, giving in. "Right. Whatever you say."

Kolya gives him The Look again. "Now, if you were normally this co-operative, matters would be much simpler," he remarks, offhand - but quite deliberately - as he moves to get hold of Rodney, to start lowering him.

McKay snorts. "In my experience, I know best, and co-operating merely means being polite to morons." He hisses and closes his eyes, fingers digging in, as a wave of nausea sweeps through him - but doesn't complain aloud.

And Kolya looks like he'd be doing something extremely unpleasant if he had the time. Instead, he limits his response to an exceptionally nasty glare, and slowly lowers Rodney to the branch below. He knows, however much he really wants to, that deliberately hurting Rodney right now would be unwise, so he forces himself not to. Just.

McKay gasps and struggles to grab something in a panic as he slips to one side. "...Ow! Anyway. You'll just have to remember that's why I don't. Because it's usually true."

Still, Kolya says nothing, managing to get Rodney into a safe enough position on the lower branch. Then he pauses for a moment, trying to centre himself, before starting to climb to the ground. When finally he's standing on the short, scrubby grass again, Kolya looks all around, checking that there are no dinosaurs nearby, before he looks up at Rodney again.

McKay just looks down, not saying anything, trying to read for a hint of... anything, really. What to do. What to say. What not to say. What the hell is in Kolya's head. He shuffles, just a bit.

Kolya takes one last deep breath, then says, "All right, now try to swing over the side of the branch, so I can get hold of you again."

McKay looks about ready to protest, but then the crease between his brows comes back, and he gingerly does as he's asked. "It goes without saying to mind my chest but I'll say it anyway, in case you... forget."

"I won't forget," Kolya replies - and he does mean it, honestly. "Now... just a little further..." Arms reaching up, he eventually manages to get a hold on Rodney, trying to position his feet so as not to lose balance.

McKay hisses again and tries to let go slowly, but it's damned hard and he's tired.

Kolya just about manages not to fall, but he doesn't sound amused as he fights to keep hold of Rodney, having to step backwards to avoid slamming them both into the tree.

McKay grunts in discomfort. "Hnh...." he starts, but cuts his complaint short.

On firmer footing now, Kolya slowly lowers McKay to the ground, using the tree to support him, glad for the moment to have got through that particular operation without major injury.

Rodney leans, panting for a minute or two. "Just give me a.... moment to... catch my breath," he asks. Chews his bottom lip. Grudgingly. "....Thanks."

Kolya nods in response - and then, noticing that he's standing really rather close, he makes himself back off, stunner out again, checking the area once more. Because he needs to be doing **something**.

McKay just... stands. "So."

Kolya looks across at him. "We need to get moving," he says, in his **so** -not-distracted, businesslike tone.

"Right." Sounding unconvinced - and clearly biting back the barb.

"I am going to have to carry you," Kolya goes on, as he walks back over, well aware that this is not going to be fun.

McKay gives him his best wounded look. "...You realise this gets weirder and weirder, right?"

Kolya considers giving him a long answer, but already knows that the most appropriate is a simple “Yes.” He turns, half-kneeling so that Rodney can get onto his back. Yes. 'Weird,' though not a Genii term, seems extremely accurate in this situation.

McKay just laughs, unable to stop himself. "I'm sorry it's just...." Oh, ow, that hurts, though, and he cradles his ribs. "Sorry. Sorry. It's just so... funny."

Laughter. Well. It's better than constant talking. Kolya doesn't say anything, though, preferring to concentrate in getting a good hold on McKay - such that he can still hold on to the stunner. It's more complex than one might think, but essential. No matter what happens... he is staying **armed**.

McKay makes Kolya back up a bit, so he can use the tree and lands with a... **thud** and almost strangles him trying not to fall off. "Lean forwards! Lean forwards!"

It's a shame Kolya isn't familiar with the term 'back seat driver,' as it would be far too appropriate in this instance. Instead, he says, "Doctor, either stop trying to strangle me, or I will leave you here," in an irritated tone, though he does lean more, nonetheless.

McKay starts trying to loosen up his stranglehold. "I was falling off! Do you have ANY idea how much THAT would have hurt?"

"Do you want to find out?" Kolya throws back, nastily, trying to regain control of his breathing.

"Only if you feel like being asphyxiated by an annoyed scientist."

"Don't tempt me." Finally deciding he's more or less comfortable and not likely to drop McKay accidentally, Kolya now sets off, following the route they took yesterday and returning to the main pathway through the forest that hopefully - HOPEFULLY - leads to the gate.

McKay hisses and clings harder, pressing low because he feels so unbalanced being above the centre of gravity like this. He never did it much as a kid. "Believe me, I'm trying not to."

“Good." And there's a lot of emphasis on that one word. As he walks, Kolya allows himself to feel glad about one thing... they are moving again. They might actually **find** the gate and get off this hellish world. All of that qualifies as 'good,' too.

McKay stays in silence for a while. Eventually he can't. "What do you do? When not doing your job, I mean. It just occurred to me that I have no idea."

Kolya sighs, wishing that McKay wasn't so obsessed with idle conversation. "I enjoy duelling," he says - which, to him, is as much a pastime as it is a career aspect. "I have several regular sparring-partners." And though there are other things he could say, he doesn't. Most of his non-job time is generally referred to as 'sleep.'

"Does it relax you?"

“Immensely." Which is true. There's nothing like a good duel to make life feel better.

"I suppose it makes sense. Gym just used to make me feel... awkward. So. I never did much after that."

"Why not?" And, of course, Kolya can't help but sound interrogative whenever he asks anything, so the question doesn't exactly come across as conversational.

"I was a geek, not a jock. I spent most of my time with a book or a computer, not a ball. I was... good. Not wonderful, but not great. And the... the other guys didn't really want me there. So I wasn't there, if I could possibly get out of it. You know."

"You isolated yourself," Kolya extrapolates, though he doesn't make it sound like a criticism.

"...I didn't need to do too much of it. Children are... remarkably good at social organisation. I was... out of most of the organisation. I had some... well, I wouldn't say friends... but. Yes. In a nutshell. I suppose."

"It's actually the best way to operate. If you give your allegiance to a large number of people, it is generally a sign of being overly-trusting."

"No one would accuse me of that," Rodney says, somewhat bitterly. "But in my defence no one gave me any reason to trust them with anything."

"Sometimes... it is easier that way." There is no bitterness in Kolya's voice as he speaks - though, as usual, it's hard to tell if he's speaking from experience, or just making a remark.

"Lonelier, though." McKay shifts a bit, uncomfortable. Though, less so with the statement than he should. He often doesn't... process them the same way everyone else does.

"Perhaps... but better than being betrayed."

"I wouldn't know," Rodney says, dryly. "It's never happened." Because there's never been anyone close enough to.

"Never?" Kolya repeats, knowing exactly how to use the word.

McKay shrugs. "I suppose you could count my family, but they never... they never let me down because I had no higher expectations of them. So. No. Just predicted failures and sometimes, occasionally, a lack thereof."

"What about since you came here? To this galaxy?"

Chaya. The thought comes immediately, without Rodney even fully knowing why. He's a little hollow. "No. No one."

Ah... what is that, lingering behind his words? Kolya can detect... something, though of course he doesn't know what, exactly. "No one at all? That seems almost... unnatural."

McKay shrugs. "I'm not a people person," is all he says.

Kolya smirks a little, even though Rodney can't see. "I had noticed," he says, lightly. At the same time, he wonders what the doctor **isn't** telling him, but decides not to push the matter.

"What else do you like doing?" Rodney asks, changing the subject.

"My job keeps me busy," Kolya replies - and it's possible he's deflecting the question. "But I like doing it, so there is never a problem."

"Do you read?" he asks, after a while. "I guess you don't have television, but you must have books, right?"

"I read a little. Mostly, books on military history. And certain aspects of psychology." No prizes for guessing which.

"I've read some of those," Rodney admits. "A lot of them contradict one another."

"Yes. One should usually attempt to reach one's own conclusions."

"My conclusion is you are hiding. Although why you are hiding when you're the one with all the cards... There's something you don't like, isn't there?" Rodney asks. "Which is normal because Kate says there's always something people don't like."

"I am hiding nothing, Doctor," Kolya replies flatly, not elaborating. He keeps his eyes on the route ahead, though if he wasn't carrying Rodney, he'd be giving him one of those stares right about now.

“Everyone hides something." Which is a fact of life. "Even if it's just from themselves.”

"Then what are you hiding?" Flipping the question seems a little obvious right now, but Kolya is not going to have the Meaningful Conversation, especially whilst carrying a senior Atlantean across a planet populated by dinosaurs.

"I don't know, if I'm hiding it from myself, do I?" Rodney says, simply. "But I know more about me than I think you think I do."

"Really? Well, in that case...-" There is a sudden shriek off to the right, and Kolya stops in mid-sentence... seconds before a small, brown blur comes whirring past them.

McKay almost chokes Kolya in panic.

"Do you **want** to get us both killed?" Kolya manages to hiss, fighting to breathe, as he moves briskly to set Rodney down by a tree. The brown blur has stopped moving now - and the dinosaur in question is eyeing them from some feet away, clicking its claws.

"Shoot it!" Rodney hisses, clinging to the tree desperately, but starting to slide down.

Kolya raises the stunner almost at once, firing a bolt in the direction of the dinosaur... but the creature moves in time, and the energy merely crashes into the tree behind. As the dinosaur starts to charge, making that nasty screeching noise again, Kolya fires once more - and this time, the target can't move out of the way fast enough. It stumbles and falls, skidding across the ground and coming to a halt right beside Rodney.

McKay's feet go from beneath him all at once, then, and he's leaning back against the tree, chest rising and falling heavily as he does. His eyes are closed and he's only just keeping back the pitiful sound he wants to make.

Kolya doesn't hesitate to shoot the dinosaur again, before turning to look at Rodney. And then - instead of staring down at him, he kneels at the doctor's side, waiting for him to open his eyes. It's odd... but for a split-second, he'd almost wondered if he was going to miss, and then... Noticing the self-doubt at once, he kicks it back before it can surface.

"Kolya?" Rodney asks, not wanting to open his eyes until he knows it's safe.

"Yes, Doctor?" Kolya replies, quietly. The stunner still in one hand, he searches for the knife with the other - knowing that he's going to have to kill the dinosaur in order to stop it waking up and coming after them.

"Is it... dead now?" he asks, prising his eyes open.

"Not quite." Realising that Rodney isn't going to want to watch this, Kolya moves over to the fallen dinosaur, dragging it just out of sight, behind the nearest bush. And then... then he knows what to do, even if dinosaur anatomy is not a specialty. Furthermore... letting him stab things, even like this? Not wise.

McKay shudders and swallows, convulsively, trying not to think about it or listen to the noises. Somehow, that makes it worse. He's very quiet all of a sudden.

The kill over, Kolya sits on the ground between Rodney and the body, cleaning the knife on some of the grass, saying nothing. It doesn't take an expert to read Rodney's behaviour now, and for once, he's not going to aggravate matters. Well. Not **right** now.

"More will come," Rodney says, eventually, calmly.

"I know," Kolya replies. "We need to keep moving."

McKay nods mutely and starts trying - painfully - to move himself.

Slipping the knife away, Kolya goes to help him, turning so that the doctor can climb onto his back again.

McKay moves gingerly, but doesn't complain this time. In fact, he's not saying much of anything again. Things are… dying. And trying to kill them. And Kolya's... no, he just really wants to stop thinking now.

As soon as McKay is in place, Kolya sets off again, wanting to put some distance between them and the dinosaur's body - which will no doubt attract **other** dinosaurs all too soon.

"How many people have you...?"

"I don't keep count."

"Oh."

"I'm a soldier, McKay. Sometimes, it is my job." And why, exactly is he trying to **rationalise** this now?

"I know. It's just... It worries me how easy it is. To... not care. Or. Not feel. Or something. I... think I should more than I do."

"That happens, to begin with. You need to learn not to feel. Not to connect. In the beginning, that doesn't always make sense. In time, however..."

"Gaul died. And all I could think about was... helping Colonel Sheppard." He chews on his bottom lip, thoughtfully. "I never really liked Gaul but I didn't hate him and he shot himself. So I could run off and play hero." A pause. A long one. "Sometimes I wonder if I'd feel the same if he died. Or Elizabeth."

"You wouldn't. It's never the same when it's someone you actually had a connection with." And oh dear, now he's really into Meaningful Conversation Territory.

"I'm not so sure. I don't really… do connections. Much."

"Maybe not often... but you do. I know that. I've seen it."

"Maybe," Rodney says, quietly. "It's... Silly, huh?"

"To connect with some, and not others? No. It makes perfect sense."

“To do it at all, really."

"Why?"

"I... just never have, before."

"Perhaps this galaxy has changed you more than you realise."

McKay stays silent for a while. "What would you be doing, if there were no Wraith. Did you ever... think about it?"

"No," Kolya replies. "The threat of the Wraith is all I have known. It defines the way my people exist."

"You've never wondered, what if?"

"I... have wondered, on occasion," Kolya admits, eventually. "I imagine my people would be more powerful than they are now."

McKay snorts. "Probably you'd be running an empire."

"We did once. We could again." The commander sounds ever-so-sure of this.

"So that's all you want from life. Power? You wouldn't have any other aspirations?"

"It is not just about power. It is about security... about protecting what matters."

"What if you were safe and secure? And you had free time? Because, back where I come from, there's nuclear war threats - and aliens who like to turn people into slaves or hosts - and we still have time to invent the most insane pastimes ever."

"If the situation ever arose... I would have to think about it." The concept is genuinely alien to Kolya, and one he hasn't really given much time to. Spending hours dreaming of how things **might** be doesn't help in getting them that way.

"Funny. I was always thinking about what I'd rather things were like. I guess we're just... different."

“Yes, Doctor. We are."

“...We need to eat."

"Indeed we do. Unfortunately, I can only think of one possibility."

"...I have two powerbars left," Rodney offers. "...We could eat one."

"It's a temporary solution," Kolya remarks. "But it will work for now." He glances around, choosing a place to stop and let McKay down, noting how good it is to be able to breathe properly again.

McKay hisses and complains a little, but without heat. Just - Rodney is alive and breathing complaining. "I'd rather not have fried dinosaur, if it's all the same. If for no other reason than one tried to eat ME."

"You say that now - but when it's the only food source left, you will be begging me to kill one for you." And if not, he'd do it anyway.

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we've burned all the others, shall we?"

Kolya gives him that 'oh, another Earth-expression' look and remarks, "Unless we find the Gate soon, the situation is likely to arise rapidly."

"Oh look who is being cheery now."

"Realistic, McKay. I am being realistic." And thinking out loud again, too.

"And when I do that, people yell at me."

"Doctor, what you call 'realism,' everyone else calls 'pessimism.'"

"That's just because they don't like admitting it's as bad as it is."

"No, it's because pessimism is **not helpful**." Having finished checking the area for dinosaurs, Kolya finally sits down - obviously tired, but constantly alert.

"It is. You don't get disappointed." Rodney waits a while, then tosses him one of the power bars. "Eat that. It might cheer you up."

Kolya catches the bar, nodding his thanks. He's eager to eat something, but is almost curious as to what fried dinosaur actually tastes like. Well. He's likely to find out sooner or later.

McKay eats his, with none of the usual relish he shows. It's the last of his food and... frankly, the idea of eating Puff the Magic Dinosaur is not that appealing. Nor is the thought of the catching, killing and cooking. He conscientiously puts the wrapper back in his pocket when he's finished, chewing on his lip in worry.

Kolya sits in silence for a while, glad of the opportunity. He looks like he might be deep in thought, but in all honesty, it's likely to just be exhaustion. Eventually, he sighs, looking over at McKay again. "Are you ready to move on?" he asks.

"No. Are you?"

"Yes." Which is only partly true. Part of him wants a lot more sleep than he managed to get last night.

"Then I suppose we should."

Kolya stands again, moving so that he can pick Rodney up once more, tensing at the strain this is placing on his back.

McKay does his best to be obliging, but he's finding it rather hard. He keeps the grunting to as much of a minimum as he can, though. Struggling to get something like comfortable.

And Kolya sets off once more, starting to hope that, any minute, they'll find the gate. In the meantime, he's just waiting for McKay's next attempt at conversation...

McKay, however, has lost the will to snark - which is never a good sign. He doesn't even complain aloud when Kolya jostles him too hard due to terrain, simply tightening his hold briefly, and hissing under his breath. He counts the steps in his mind, attempting to... do something with the numbers, to estimate distances, times, speeds. Anything.

Surprised by the silence, Kolya eventually stops waiting and settles into his own thought patterns, wondering what the reaction will be if he ever does manage to get home. The situation is gladly one he'd face any time, right now. Even to get back and find himself already written off as dead would be preferable to having to spend another night up a tree on the Planet of the Dinosaurs. Besides, McKay needs a medic soon... and Kolya doesn't want to see him die.

McKay drops his head forwards a bit, trying to alleviate some of the pain. He's getting... well. Everywhere that isn't going numb is going stiff or staying painful. But they have nothing. Just the stunner, which Kolya won't use on him again. Complaining won't get him anywhere. No sympathy. No help. No nothing. No pain relief. No... anything, but pain, and hunger, and tiredom. If his cheeks are wet, well. Who would blame him?

Eventually, the silence starts to hit Kolya as unnatural. Rodney being quiet for a few minutes - for effect - is normal. But prolonged silence? Not so good. "Doctor?" he prompts.

"Mmm?" The response is listless, minimal. He has no real desire to communicate at all.

"I was just checking that you were still conscious." It's hard for Kolya to sound like he actually cares... but he does.

"Yes." Which is all he needs to say.

By now, Kolya can tell that all is very much Not Good. "We should stop again," he says. "Whatever your feelings on fried dinosaur... it's time we tried it."

McKay nods weakly. "Fine. I'm sure I've had worse."

Oddly careful now, Kolya halts by one of the trees in the next clearing they reach, slowly putting McKay down again. Then, raising the stunner, he settles at the doctor's side. "I'm not leaving you here," he explains. "So we'll just have to wait for one of those things to jump us again."

McKay snorts. "...Bad plan."

Kolya glances sideways at him. "Think of a better one," he says, though there's no malice in his voice now.

Rodney seems to be focussing, struggling to think. His head's uncomfortably muggy, his reactions slowed. He's conscious enough to realise that. "...Bait," he says, then laughs shortly. "Hide. I'm a... sitting target. Carrion, more or less. You get the drop."

Kolya is about to respond when he finds himself double-taking. Was he just about to..? Yes. He was. And he still is. "No," he states. "I am not moving. If something jumps you, I need to be **here** in order to guarantee killing it."

“What if it catches you by surprise? We're both dead then." But Rodney looks suddenly... grateful. He smiles, weakly, but it soon turns into that smirk he normally wears. "Both doomed then."

Never mind dinosaurs, it's the smile that catches Kolya by surprise - and he almost seems to return it. "Not yet," he replies, confident.

"I'd settle odds with you but I wouldn't get anything other than a moment of smug satisfaction if I won." He pulls his legs slowly up into his chest, conscious that it will reduce the swelling, and fighting the very real pain with that in mind. "I may have to... pass out on you in a minute. No offence meant."

"Keep talking, Doctor. You need to stay conscious, painful though that may be."

"You were telling me to sleep before," Rodney says, blinking lethargically. "If I talk they might not come...."

"You **should** have slept before. Right now, you need to stay conscious. And your talking has not stopped them in the past. In fact... it seems to attract them."

McKay laughs, then grabs at his stomach, because it hurts. "Oh... please don't... hurts if I laugh, bastard."

And now, Kolya **does** smile at him. "Keeps you awake, though," he remarks, lightly.

"I'll remember that when you want to sleep, you know."

"I don't doubt it."

McKay shuffles again, lost for something to say.

At his side, Kolya is still flicking his gaze around the clearing, waiting for any sign of movement. Typical. Try to avoid the damn things, and they jump you constantly. Go looking for one, and suddenly, they're all otherwise occupied. How very -... Sudden rustling interrupts his train of thought as, in the bushes on the other side of the clearing, something moves.

McKay has sensed it too, and is suddenly stock-still, his eyes flickering to Kolya's as he tries to communicate... something. The rustle again - but is that one on the other side too? And... a third? Rodney puts his hand on Kolya's elbow, nodding where he thinks he heard something, looking worried but... as though he expects something. Saving, possibly.

Oh... not good. Kolya can hear the additional movement, and he knows at once that this might be trickier than he anticipated. He glances at Rodney, acknowledging the meaning behind the contact, and then there's a moment when he's clearly trying to work out how best to proceed. Quite suddenly, he fires at the nearest source of movement. There's a yelp, and then the **things** start charging.

McKay is in absolutely no fit state to be doing anything, but he still has a boot filled with water. A boot filled with water, on laces. A boot which he then proceeds to twirl, using the laces, as close to them both as he can manage in the hopes of doing SOMETHING to deflect the... dinosaurs. The water splashes a little. Rodney yells. A lot.

In the middle of trying to fire at the growing swarm of Little Bastards, Kolya manages a shout of "McKay! Stop that!" - though, somehow, he's rather amused by the recurrence of the Rodney McKay Battle Cry. At the moment, however, he has to concentrate on shooting - and the dinosaurs appear to be getting better at dodging. Two go down... but no, another one comes at them from the left, then there's a BLAM and he's focusing off to the right...

McKay has a bit of trouble stopping the boot, on account of momentum and Newton's laws, specifically those referring to moving forces and the continuation of such. And so, as any good physicist will, he lets go. And the boot, no longer bound by centripetal forces, flies. In a straight line. Right at the dinosaur. "Sorry!" he yells, as it catches Kolya on the hand.

It's hard to aim when people are flinging things at you. Seconds away from getting a very nice shot at one of the dinosaurs, Kolya gets hit with the boot, and the stunner bolt smashes into a tree instead. "Damn it, Doctor, are you **trying** to get us killed?!" he exclaims, moving to re-take aim. But no... that one is too close. Seeing no other option, Kolya leaps to his feet, and smacks the barrel of the stunner into the nearest dinosaur as it charges, sending the creature flying.

"N-No!" Rodney says, hand going back to the tree as the sudden movement and panic make his nausea worse. He feels helpless, and hates it, watching Kolya move around. His fault, that. Putting him off. Getting under the feet. He cringes, looking thoroughly dejected.

By this point, the adrenaline has really hit, and Kolya **needs** to be doing more than just pointing and shooting, so the last few dinosaurs get thoroughly smashed into trees before he stuns them. Then, silence finally returning, he stops, breathing deeply and staring around. At least eight of the damn things appear to be lying in various states of unconsciousness, sprawled on the ground. Satisfied that there aren't any more, Kolya turns back to Rodney. "Doctor. Are you all right?"

McKay nods, but he isn't. He's shaking a little from shock but trying to hide it by tensing, not really able to look at anyone or anything. "I... sorry. I was trying to help. Sorry."

"I understand," Kolya says quietly, with a slow nod. He glances back at the clearing-full of dinosaurs, determination crossing his face. "You may wish to close your eyes again," he says, pulling out the knife with more than a little flourish. "We can't have any of these things following us, and we certainly won't be eating all of them."

McKay looks green and nods, jamming his eyes tight shut in the determined 'I am not going to see ANYTHING' way.

And Kolya - with more than a little grim satisfaction - moves from dinosaur to dinosaur, killing them. Then he drags the bodies, a couple at a time, out of the clearing. All except one.

Rodney breathes louder and faster than he technically needs to, but closing his eyes around other people has never been one of his favourite things. And when those people are Kolya, less so. "Look, I don't want to hear this. But don't go away either," he adds, panicky. "Can you... talk? About something."

"You really are overly fond of conversation," Kolya remarks, though his tone is a little lighter now - dinosaur-bashing is clearly therapeutic. Doing his best to keep Rodney from having to watch, he starts gutting the dead dinosaur - which is an experience in itself. There appears to be suitable meat, however. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"I can't help it, when I get nervous I talk. I talk and I say anything and everything, because I have to keep my mouth busy and if there's anything to eat, I eat that because it makes me feel better and I say less. Just. Anything. What do you normally talk about? When not talking about tactics and how much you hate us and the Wraith and want C4, I mean..."

At this, Kolya almost rolls his eyes. Almost. "You see my people in such one-dimensional terms, don't you?"

"No. But if I said, 'What do you talk about?', you'd avoid the issue. And see what I mean about saying everything? I just do. It comes into my head and then it goes out, because I have to say it or it all builds up."

"I do not 'avoid the issue,'" Kolya states. "I merely question the reason for your interest." He's still cutting away at the dinosaur, starting to remove... well. They look a bit like very red chicken breasts, but **clearly** are not.

"...What? Why would I... look. I'm a scientist. **Scientist**. That means I deal with things that make more sense than **people**.” At which point he forgets he's slightly freaked out by gutted dinosaur, in anger, and drops his hand. And fails to notice. "I don't care about blackmailing you or working out whether your pet died in your arms or if your mother wanted a girl and put you in dresses. I'm. Just. Talking!"

"Fine," Kolya throws back, suddenly losing it, "you want me to talk? What is there to say?! I have spent my entire life believing that protecting my people is the most important reason for living - that we deserve so much more than the current state of things. Our lives are **built** around the way we live - around the principles needed to survive. And finally, finally, I was given the chance to really make a difference, yet saw my efforts hounded from the word 'go.' Cowan pushed us into an attack before we were ready. Your people -" - by whom he naturally means John Sheppard - "made the situation an organisational nightmare, and despite not getting my **entire** team killed, **I** have to take the fall for the whole matter. Do you think that makes me especially eager to open up to you?!" And yes, it's possible he's over-reacting, but damn it, he needs to right now.

"And this is my fault HOW exactly? How many people did I kill? How many people did **I** send on a mission? Was I negotiating? Was I pulling triggers? I WAS JUST TRYING TO SAVE THE ONLY CHANCE WE HAVE TO DEFEAT THE WRAITH." Rodney glares. In full flow, he speaks fast, but nothing like his excited technical speak. This is Rodney yelling. _Then_ the awkward flustering kicks in. 

"I don't see why… why I should be a convenient place for you to... make yourself better by hating. It's stupid and I'm tired of it. I wasn't asking for your life's story, I was just asking you to be CIVIL and talk to me like I'm a normal Human BEING which NO ONE, no matter WHAT GALAXY I am in seems able to do!" At which, Rodney stops. Red in the face, and surprised.

Kolya, seconds from launching into another tirade, suddenly pauses. In between the repeated outbursts they've been suffering ever since **dropping** onto this hellish world, he's been trying to pin down exactly **why** he has been feeling and acting the way he does. And his last outburst, coupled with what Rodney just said, seems to have finally cleared something up. 

“I'll tell you what the problem is," Kolya says, facing Rodney again, his tone now much quieter again. "The problem is this: every time I interact with you... I can only think of Sheppard, of what he did to my men - and to me. You... you of all people, I expected to have a problem with that. But you don't." Of course, this isn't the whole truth, but it's closer than other things he might have said.

Rodney looks confused. "You wouldn't have left us alone any other way," he says, still frowning, completely confused now. "You threatened Elizabeth. You threatened me. You killed two of his men. What else was he supposed to do?" 

McKay frowns, trying to think about the dead Genii. But he doesn't know them. Doesn't see them as people. He tries to see them as the people under his command who have died, but it's more personal, single tragedies that strike home. Gaul. "He... It was quick. They never would have known about it, you know. They wouldn't suffer. I'm not saying I approve of killing in any way, but I always thought.... not suffering would be the best way to go." Quiet, subdued, now. Thinking of Gaul, of others. Thinking of... the alternatives to quick death, and knives. There's a quick, almost imperceptible shudder. "I am not John Sheppard."

Knowing he's not making himself clear enough, Kolya turns back to what's left of the dinosaur. "Sheppard did what he believed was right. I did what **I** believed was right. But you will never see why I did what I did. You will never really understand what motivated me to make those choices. **That** is why I am reluctant to talk to you." Almost as an aside, he adds, "and be glad that you are not John Sheppard - because if you were, one of us would most likely be dead by now."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Rodney remarks, almost off-hand. Fingers rub distractedly at the bridge of his nose, fighting the onset of cold. "So your plan in life is just to ignore people who don't see the world your way. Great plan. That's worked really well for societies in the past. I wish you well with it." Which, for Rodney, is high social criticism. "Cut the dinosaur. You can prove how superior you are to it."

"My plan in life is not to ignore people who don't see the world my way... but I am nevertheless wary of opening up to them." Kolya pauses, cutting at the dinosaur with alarmingly good control, despite his mood. And then, seemingly as an afterthought, he says, "I should have left Sheppard in that hole and just taken you home with me."

"I don't see how everyone thinks conversation is some great act of warfare. Which is probably why I never socialised much at college, unless there was alcohol, food or chess involved." Rodney lets his head drop back. "The Stay and Gloat get you, did it? Or would you have rather have tortured him by not knowing where I was and me by... no, actually, I don't want to know. I think I've had enough of that for one lifetime. All of them, actually, just in case I am reincarnated. Which I won't be."

"You know what I would have liked?" Kolya asks, glancing over his shoulder again. "I would have liked nothing more than to prove to you that Sheppard isn't the shining hero you think he is."

"I know he's not perfect," Rodney says, his voice giving a bit. "He does stupid things. But John Sheppard is a good man. He's a damn good leader. He cares for his team and he cares for other people and he might not get everything right but he tries." And then Rodney puffs out his chest. "And he's my **friend**." Because John.... John knows him. And he knows John, even if no one else really does. Not that Rodney knows everything, but he knows parts that others don't. And it's... nice. To know things. To like things about someone.

"Then maybe he and I are more alike than I thought." And now, Kolya **really** doesn't want to talk - not just because the very idea is rather alarming, but also because he's becoming more aware of how much he isn't thinking straight. On account of the stress. Yes. That.

"Colonel Sheppard wouldn't torture someone," Rodney says, in a blurt. Because... that idea is worrying. Really, really worrying. "So that's just... no. No. Oh god, that's so wrong. And you so wouldn't like... well maybe you'd like action films but the idea of you as a geek is just... okay, stop that now."

All of a sudden, Kolya leans much closer to Rodney, the bloodstained knife still in one hand, and says, "Alarming, isn't it, when the lines start to blur? When you realise that life isn't as black and white as you thought?"

Rodney's eyes go wide and dark, his face pale. There's no movement, suddenly, but his breathing and his eyes, blinking only when they need to. "Yes. But that doesn't change what happened. Colonel Sheppard would not have hurt me, if the positions were reversed." Eyes closed, rackety breath. "War makes things complicated. I'm not a soldier. But I couldn't do what you did. Not ever."

"And **that** , Doctor," Kolya says, low and soft and right in his ear, "is precisely my point. You don't truly understand me... but more than that, you don't truly understand Sheppard, either. Or maybe you just see more similarities between us than you'd care to admit." And hell, let the man get the point soon, because all these self-comparisons to Sheppard are not making things any easier.

"I don't think I want to understand you," Rodney says, fingers clenching and releasing into his palm. "I may be less than socially adept, but I've... never really wanted to cause anyone pain. And you're not going to convince me the Colonel does either." His voice shakes a little as he talks, and he looks ready to be sick. Memories of families and... children and colleagues. All wanting him to hurt. It does. "I was just trying to be polite. And considering what... considering everything, I think that was fairly big of me. But I'll leave you to your sad little existence. Please. Continue." He jams his eyes shut and looks down, biting at his bottom lip hard.

Fighting the urge to drop back into tirade-mode - or to give in and emphasise his point with the knife still clutched in his hand - Kolya backs off slowly. Without saying any more, he returns to what he was doing, namely building a fire in order to attempt to cook the dinosaur.

Rodney, tired, simply keels over and lies down on his side. With an oof. Curling up, with his back to Kolya. As if facing him would help him survive if the Genii got worse anyway. "And even if you are John," he says, without moving, "that means you hate yourself. Which I think's the worst thing of all."

Once more, Kolya almost yells at him - and once more, he doesn't. For the briefest moment, so many responses are hovering on the tip of his tongue, all of them finally caving before the one he never expected to give. "Yes. It is."

Rodney still doesn't move. Though he's not entirely got the self-control necessary for making the points he wants most of the time, and his lack of patience often gets the better of him - over matters of pride, he's unrelenting That and he really doesn't want the Genii to see how he's been affected - all this shouting, yelling, **meaning**... In a moment, Kolya and Sheppard collapsed, and Rodney was looking at his friend with a knife. His friend with a knife. Would John Sheppard ever...

"Welcome to Humanity, Commander. Maybe you should try stopping, or at least stopping it getting in your way. You have even more issues than I do. My psychiatrist back home would have a field day with you."

Kolya, on the other hand, can feel himself fast losing it - and he too is having more trouble with the conversation than he wants to let on. But, far more practiced in the art of giving nothing away, he certainly doesn't look as unsettled as he feels.

And his reply is delivered with a rather hostile glower, to assist in hiding everything else. "How interesting. Believe me, Doctor... given the chance, I could have quite a field day with your psychiatrist, too."

In between all this, it's back to Basic Fieldcraft, or How To Make Fire. Which he's doing with notable aggression.

Rodney laughs, but it's a hollow, self-deprecating kind of laugh. The kind of laugh someone who isn't ever sure if anyone is ever agreeing with them, humouring them, or laughing behind their back. Including their doctor.

"She would love you," he says, carrying on in a tone that's balanced and normal - if you ignore the strain that sounds almost like breaking. Faintness, in parts, thinness. "All anger and aggression and symbolic weaponry. You're a textbook case."

A long, dragged breath that sounds painful and... almost, but not quite, like it's covering the tremors of a dry sob. "In fact, I should probably have been in therapy myself for the rest of my life before we even got here."

Flames spark into life at last, and now Kolya is moving on to the next step: ‘Cooking Your *Insert Animal Here.*’ He's still talking to Rodney without looking at him, although this is clearly not out of simple disregard. His movements, though seemingly normal, are almost avoidant at times.

Because deep down, he knows he's trekking further and further into very uncharted territory - and not the kind involving dinosaurs.

"In my experience," he remarks, "most people who seem like textbook cases rarely turn out to be."

"There's no such thing," Rodney admits, with a shaky move, trying to find a position his legs don't hurt in. "Not with people. Too much erroneous data. Too many variables. Too much... Humanity. It's why I gave up biological sciences. That and every book I read told me I had something else that was shortening my life-span, and it's short enough without worrying about all the things shortening it, unless they are really fatal, like lemons."

Rodney really can talk about nothing whatsoever and everything at once for a long period of time. A really, really long period. He turns over carefully, half his face dusty from lying in the dirt, though he doesn't even care. Instead, he watches. Not quite turned to see.

"It is the variation in Humanity that has always appealed to me. It keeps things... interesting."

Hearing the movement behind him, Kolya instinctively looks over his shoulder, turning back when he realises it's just Rodney again. And suddenly, he's very, very aware of being watched, despite knowing he doesn't need to be.

"Difficult. Difficult is what it makes it. Impossible to predict and understand and quantify and order and explain. No real science at all."

An understatement and a half, coming from Rodney. "Diversity allows some people to stand out more than others. So I shouldn't complain."

It strikes the commander, suddenly, that their conversations are so incredibly odd. One moment, there's deeply open hostility, and the next, they're back to what **seems** like a casual discussion on the Human condition. Of course, it isn't really anything of the sort, at least not to Kolya. To him, it's the only workable way to duel with Rodney - a verbal battle, as opposed to the physical ones that he prefers. Sometimes, adapting to an opponent's style is the best way to face them.

Now wondering if part-roasted dinosaur is **supposed** to look like that, Kolya replies, "What you call difficult, I call a welcome challenge."

Usually.

"And most other people call 'problematic'." Or worse. Generally ignorant and idiotic, if he's the one talking. Arrogant and unsympathetic if others are talking likewise about him.

Still looking mortally offended, which he does most of the time anyway, Rodney blinks slowly at Kolya, before looking speculatively at the dinosaur.

"Is it still pink? Was it even pink to begin with? I don't want food poisoning."

"It was red to begin with," Kolya remarks, quite matter-of-factly. "Now... it is less so. But then, the preparation of dinosaur meat is not something I'm familiar with."

Food poisoning. Now **that** would just be the final nail in the coffin. And if the commander can keep Rodney McKay alive and up a tree all night, stop small, vicious dinosaurs from eating **them** , and butcher one such dinosaur with a very inadequate knife, then, damn it, he is not going to let matters get any worse.

"Is it going white now? Or brown? It shouldn't be pink when it's done. That's very important. Not that I'm saying you can't cook, just you might be better at processing raw food than I am. I'm highly sensitive to things in my food."

Rodney always thinks about the important things in life. And from his words, you might imagine he's completely blocked out all the previous conversation. He might have. He might not. It's often very hard to tell. He does, however, still look red in the face.

Attempting to stay textbook-impassive once again - which is not easy, given the circumstances, Kolya glances over his shoulder. "It is... taking its time," he says. "And trust me, Doctor, if I can stop this thing killing you whilst alive, I certainly won't let it kill you whilst dead."

He's well-aware of how distressed Rodney currently looks, though is avoiding commenting - if only because he is dwelling on it rather more than seems necessary.

"Well. I just thought I should say. Because I don't know what you normally do when you're eating, but you probably do have to cook and eat stuff. It's just I know certain people wouldn't check before they put something in their mouth, and you wonder how they survived this long..."

"I will be careful," the commander assures him, again - although Kolya is rarely one to actually **sound** re-assuring.

Rodney nods in acquiescence, then settles. And says nothing. For a few moments at least, though it's likely it won't last for too long.

Considering the alternatives, several moments of silence are extremely welcome. They pass briskly, though, punctuated only by the hissing of the dinosaur as it cooks. When not working on the field cuisine, Kolya is constantly looking around, as if expecting to be attacked again by more of the Little Bastards.

This time, though, the immediate area seems to remain free of said creatures, and it isn't long before Kolya is turning again. "I believe this is now edible," he says. Although the exact truth in this statement remains to be seen.

Rodney pulls a face. "Really." He does not sound in the least bit convinced. Nor is he hurrying over. Saying that, when he's starving, is saying something.

The commander gives him a rather odd expression. "You need to eat, Doctor. Otherwise you'll be passing out even more often."

Or dying, of course. And we can't have that.

"You first." Said reasonably enough, considering. "I need to know whether I want to eat it instead of die before I try it."

This coming from the man who, only the day before, refused to start walking until he'd eaten. It says a lot about stress levels, really, and Kolya might have found it more interesting, were he not preoccupied with other things.

With almost no hesitation, Kolya picks up one of the now-cooked pieces of dinosaur - which are, at last, a more edible colour - and takes a bite.

"Hmmm. Interesting."

"Interesting? Interesting? Interesting does not mean good. Interesting can mean the sound something makes before it explodes. How interesting? What does it taste like?"

No matter where you are in the great tapestry of the universe, some things **never** change.

"Chicken."

Rodney... stares. His voice is deadpan. "Really."

Any minute now, a pyramid is going to land nearby and...

Rodney shrugs, leans over, and attempts to free some meat without burning his fingers **too** badly.

Turns out these Little Bastards are good for one thing... dinner. Now more secure in the knowledge that starvation is unlikely, Kolya is content to sit and eat - though he's back to watching Rodney again.

For the time being, he doesn't speak - although he knows this state of affairs is not going to last.

"Bit like chicken," Rodney says, between mouthfuls, licking fingers, blowing fingers - attempting not to be burnt, or to eat so fast he makes himself sick. "But... more... lean. Hmm..." 

And of course, eating makes him thirsty. He looks about for their watered boots.

Realising what Rodney must be looking for, Kolya picks up the last of the bootfuls of water and passes it to him.

"I told you... interesting."

Rodney makes some form of grunt whilst drinking, which could be anything from a snort, to a thanks, to a... who knows. He's very careful with the water, if a little greedy. 

"Interesting is just one step short of 'special'." But still, he eats - and hands the boot back.

Nodding in thanks, Kolya nevertheless has a sudden, very odd flicker in his eye - though it quickly disappears.

"Yes. It is."

Having eaten enough for now - mainly because his stomach hurts from everything, and for once he really can't - Rodney leans back again, hissing loudly in pain. Not one to suffer in silence.

"We should take some with us, shouldn't we? Don't know how long it is until we reach the gate."

The commander shakes his head. "I already have you to carry, Doctor. If we need more to eat... I will have to go hunting again."

By which he means - 'I need an open excuse to kill things every once in a while.' Predictable, really.

"Not... any of it?" McKay clearly looks surprised. Sheppard would have... no. Not thinking about that.

"There is not as much as you would expect, given the size of these... creatures. And unless you plan on keeping it in your pockets, the whole matter would just be too much trouble."

Plus, we're going to get off this planet **soon**. Either that, or... No. Bad thoughts.

"That is the kind of things these pockets are for," Rodney said, as though speaking to a small, unintelligent child. "And I'd rather not go into hypoglycaemic shock waiting for the next lot of velociraptors to come visit us."

For this, Rodney gets the Unimpressed Expression. "Fine. But don't blame me when you attract every still-living dinosaur for miles around."

Kolya knows he ought to be protesting more, but in all honesty, another excuse to fight something would be really rather helpful right now.

"Well, do you know which of this planet's many plants are edible? By me, even, as I'm highly allergic to things and liable to go into shock? Which means either by not eating or by eating the wrong thing you could end up with a dead weight, and that won't be too easy..."

Showing rather a great deal of restraint, Kolya merely sighs. "Do as you wish, then. Either way, we should start moving again."

Always in motion, the Genii is. Rodney sighs, wrapping some of the remains of the dinosaur up in leaves and sliding them into his pockets. He's betting that the animals here have never smelt cooked food and wouldn't know civilisation if it bulldozed over their den.

"Fine."

Kicking dirt over the remnants of the fire, Kolya scrambles to his feet, hand already on the stunner once more. And then... it's back to How To Carry Your Scientist.

What fun this is turning out to be. But he doesn't look all that affected, taking care as he tries to load Rodney onto his back again without injuring the man still further.

Your Scientist now comes with handy Scrabbling Feet action, Muffled Protest sounds, authentic weight and Grappling Hands. He is **trying** to be helpful, but it isn’t really that easy, considering the state he's in.

"....Watch... will you just... that way!"

He also has never heard of 'stealth'.

Kolya would be rolling his eyes right now, if he wasn't so preoccupied with Rodney's attempts to summon every dinosaur for miles around.

"You are not... making this any easier!" he hisses, trying to be firm and quiet at the same time. Which is not easy.

"Well it's not very easy to jump up on someone when you've had half your legs bitten off!" Rodney hisses - loudly. Still struggling. A yelp means he doesn't feel safe. "Lean forwards more, I'm going to land on my ass here. You know there's a reason I never did this as a kid. A very good reason."

"You did it before - now, stop being quite so... argh!"

Think calm thoughts, think calm thoughts, think calm thoughts...

Rodney removes his foot, contrite, and tries to sit in a more... thoughtful position. And one where he doesn't feel like he's about to fall off the Genii any minute.

"Well you must have been standing different before."

That's somewhat better. **Somewhat.**

"Evidently," Kolya remarks, shortly.

And then he sets off, raising another silent plea that they find the Gate soon.

It's uncomfortable. It's awkward. It's difficult balancing and keeping limbs in places they should be. It doesn't help that Rodney's a tall man, and broad with it. And that Kolya really isn't. There's **more** of Rodney to a very small amount of Kolya, or so it feels.

It's also... boring. But Rodney has no clue what on earth he can say that won't start another screaming match - and he did not like the last one.

Happy to let the silence endure, Kolya says nothing, instead allowing himself to concentrate on other things - like not dropping Rodney, and keeping a close eye on the undergrowth in case any **more** of those wretched creatures appear.

But that's not the only reason he isn't talking - though it is the only reason he'll admit to. In the meantime... no need to aggravate matters further.

Rodney shifts uncomfortably, as parts of him go numb from not moving. He attempts to itch his shoulder using the side of his face. To look at the botany. To...

"Can we have a rest yet?"

**Typical.**

"Doctor, we have hardly got going. And we will never find the Gate if you insist on stopping every ten minutes!"

Furthermore... we talk when we stop.

"It's **hurting**. You aren't being very careful." And I'm bored.

"I am doing my best."

He is. Really. Right, now, doing anything else would be unwise.

Rodney stops asking to be let down. Instead, "I hope you're keeping an eye on the sun, so we find a place long before it's too dark."

Another night on this forsaken planet. Now there's a thought Kolya really could have done without.

"I am," he says, nevertheless. "Unfortunately, we will have to find a suitable tree again."

Rodney doesn't think he could cope with that again, but he doesn't say so. For once, he holds his tongue. Nods. "Right."

Kolya is about to say something - something vague and offhand and probably very silence-inducing - but then, matters take a slightly unexpected turn. The, for want of a better word, 'path' that they've been following suddenly opens out, into a large, rounded clearing. Flickering sunlight casts hazy shadows on the ground, giving the place a strange and almost ironic beauty.

And all of it pales in comparison before what lies in that clearing - a great grey ring, with steps leading to it, those eternally alien symbols carved all over.

The Stargate - real, magnificent, and more welcome than anything else has ever seemed before.

Rodney makes a startled little noise, one entirely unmanly and unbecoming, and one he'd deny being responsible for if at all questioned. But it's there, the little squeak of relief.

Which, of course, is soon followed by a little shudder of terror. Rodney really isn't in any fit state to forcibly, or tricksily convince hardened Genii commanders into letting him go.

"...no trees then..."

Oh yes, relief. Relief, and triumph, at having actually made it here. Kolya carefully lets Rodney down, needing to go over to the dialling device, to re-assure himself that all is well, that they really are about to get out of here.

But then, he's looking at Rodney once more, and the full ramifications of the situation hit home. The man who, for all intents and purposes, has been his ally for the last day, just turned into his prisoner. And he knows that shouldn't affect him... yet it does.

Did he really carry the doctor all this way for the good of the Genii? Is that really all there is to it?

Right now... those are harder questions to answer than one might expect.

Rodney most pointedly does not look anywhere near Kolya or the gate. If he were Colonel Sheppard, he would have... never been in this mess in the first place. Probably never been captured, and if he had, seduced his way out. But no, this is Rodney McKay, incompetent scientist. With the Genii. Again.

Under pretence of looking out for Bigger Dinosaurs (as there always **is** one) he looks around.

"Everything working all right?" he asks, voice oddly pitched.

The commander steps up to the dialling controls, running his hand lightly over the arc of buttons, as if daring them not to be real. But they are, oh, they are. He did it... **they** did it. They survived.

"Yes," he answers, hand lingering over the first symbol - the first one needed to dial **home**.

And yes, he's actually hesitating. He wants to turn, wants to look Rodney in the eye and attempt to justify why he's doing this. He never needed to offer justification before - but now, part of him wants to, and yet, part of him can't.

"You don't need to," Rodney says, quietly, slowly. Then the words come out in a rush, tumbling out before he thinks better of himself. "No one will know. I'll... I'll send you the plans you need for your refinement. Elizabeth won't know about it. You could take all the credit for it. I'll give you them now, if you want. If you let me go. I want to go back home."

Then he snorts messily. John Sheppard would never beg like that. John Sheppard would never break like he does. John Sheppard would never cave and give away information, no matter what the price. But this is Rodney, and this is Rodney's life, and Rodney rather likes his life, terrifying and isolating as it is at times. He... wants it.

Kolya has to slam up about ten mental walls at that, if only to stop himself doing something really, really stupid. He's blaming it all on the planet, and the stress, and…

Well. If he can't convince himself, better work extra hard to convince others.

"I have to," he says, and there's a very odd edge to his voice that people rarely get to hear. "Besides... you can't get home. Not from here. And you need medical attention as a matter of some urgency."

And I have to do my job. I have to.

"There are places I can go. People who will help me. We haven't spent all our time making enemies, even if Colonel Sheppard's diplomatic skills are even worse than mine." Even to Rodney's own ears he sounds pathetic.

"Doctor... you know I have no choice."

Kolya can hear the hesitation in his own voice now, and part of him is full of self-hatred at that. What he needs is some good down-time and a decent sparring match... and not to lose perspective.

"Neither did Colonel Sheppard," Rodney says with a sort of finality. And no one will even know he's still alive. No one will come looking, because to all extents and purposes he's dead.

He'll never see his cat again. Somehow, that's possibly the worst part of it all.

"Just... dial."

Though Kolya will never admit it, that statement hits him hard. Really. He takes a deep breath, turning back to the dialling device, hoping this will be enough to hide any betrayal of his feelings in his eyes.

His hand drifts back to the first symbol - and this time, he presses it. Ching, ching, ching... and the gate is dialling, chevrons lighting one by one. Then there's an almighty _ka-WOOOOSH,_ as the wormhole establishes, filling the air with a fresh set of dappled blue shadows.

It would be an odd moment, perhaps hinted with an almost poetic quality - except, of course, for the fact that, before Kolya can get another word in, there's a hideous screeching from the undergrowth nearby, and one more of the Little Bastards comes charging.

Life just isn't fair.

Rodney immediately yelps and flings himself awkwardly to the ground. He's unarmed. He's hurt. He's tired, he's cranky and he's sick and tired of dinosaurs. He decides he's never, ever watching Jurassic Park again - even if he does get chance. 

With a yell of warning and panic, he curls up and covers his head in a vain attempt at at least not **seeing** the carnage.

The commander mutters what might be a Genii obscenity, hefting the Wraith stunner that he's still carrying. This is just... making matters worse. The universe clearly has it in for him.

He aims, moving with the target, and fires with a great deal of aggression. Being rather pre-occupied with Rodney, the dinosaur is unable to move in time, and it takes a stun-bolt squarely to the back, screeching and tumbling and slumping, finally hitting the floor a few metres from McKay.

And then? Kolya shoots it, twice more, a lot of pent-up conflict behind his actions. Pausing for only a second, he moves over to the fallen **thing** , giving it a sharp crack about the head with the stunner barrel, for good measure.

Rodney squeaks, now shaking almost continuously from shock. The smacking noise, the wet-sounding **crack**... the metal smell of blood...

He wants to go home. He wishes he'd never come to the Pegasus galaxy. Wishes he'd not been singled out to work on the Stargate program. Wishes he'd never been the smart one. Wishes he could just be like every other moron he despises and envies.

If he could move, he would. But he's currently curled up in a ball, crying blankly. He has no control over anything any more, and it shows.

Kolya stands over the fallen dinosaur, still breathing fast, trying to get his mind to work properly. All of his previous actions were solely on instinct - and those which require thought seem harder to summon right now

He's getting that sense again - just like back on Atlantis - that, no matter how close to victory he is, everything is about to come crashing down. It hurts, and not just because of the memory itself.

Plus, the sight of Rodney breaking down like that is more painful than he'd dare admit - and for a man who's spent the last twenty-four hours killing Wraith and dinosaurs, that's saying something.

Rodney, meanwhile, is insensible to the outside world right now, and currently trying to make himself as small and unobtrusive as possible - and considering most of his life is spent acting otherwise... well.

He has no intention of moving. None.

For a moment, neither of them move, an odd silence descending that seems so unlike all the other silences that have punctuated their various conversations. Kolya is clearly thinking - although, as ever, it's hard to be sure exactly what.

Finally, stunner slung over his back again, he goes over to where Rodney is curled in a shaking heap, hesitating at least once before he kneels at the doctor's side, a hand on his shoulder - nothing like the way he **usually** makes that particular gesture.

He's not used to this, not at all. Normally, people break down in front of him because he **made** them, and that's a good thing in those circumstances. This... oh, this is something different.

Were he to realise exactly what was happening, Rodney would probably break down even more. As it is, he doesn't even make the connection between the hand on his shoulder and anything that's gone before. He's too busy trying to not-exist, to block things out, to ignore all that has happened before, dizzy and faint from lack of food, sleep and blood. 

Over and over and over. Sheppard would not have done this. No. Nor Teyla. Nor Ford. Nor Elizabeth, even. He's too ashamed to move, hating showing how weak he is, hating knowing that if Kolya were to ask him now, he'd probably tell him almost anything.

The Stargate makes its familiar noise in the background, but somehow that just makes things so much worse.

The saddest thing, in some ways, is that Kolya is well aware of how easy it would be to get information out of Rodney right now - and he isn't trying. And that is much the same as a bibliophile walking into a library, muttering 'oh look, books,' and walking straight out again.

Slowly, he tries to roll McKay to the side, in an attempt to make eye-contact with him - because he knows how grounding that can be.

"Doctor?" he says, rather quietly.

Rodney is not going to look anywhere near him. No. It's embarrassing enough being in this state, with Kolya seeing him like this. Admitting it by seeing... seeing whatever he'd see if he looked just makes it worse. If he can pretend Kolya can't see him, but not seeing Kolya, then somehow... it's marginally less soul-destroyingly awful.

Marginally.

Rodney makes a non-committal noise and tries to roll against being pushed. Or, at worst, roll too far. Sideways is the new black.

"Doctor," the commander repeats, voice still quiet and level. "We are getting off this planet. I didn't bring you this far to let you die on the very last step."

He keeps his hand on Rodney's shoulder, but doesn't try to make him move just yet. If nothing else, carrying him in this condition would be tricky indeed.

That is, of course, not the only reason, despite being a valid one nevertheless.

"No," Rodney says, although he isn't quite sure what he's refusing or denying, just that there's a negative in there. Somewhere. Vaguely he thinks that although he wishes the ground would swallow him up, death by dino is not exactly painless. He shudders.

"...can't."

"...You can. You have to. We need to get off this world before another one of those creatures comes wandering past. And I am **not** leaving you here."

It's hard to know exactly what is going on in Kolya's head at the moment, but it certainly isn't normal. That much is evident by now.

Rodney's crying silently, the wet kind of tears you cry when you really don't want someone to hear, and when you really can't make much of anything. He curls up some more, around Kolya, automatically seeking... anything. People. Comfort. Hell, perhaps it's just hiding. 

"I can't move because my legs hurt," he says, although it sounds more like a petulant child's moan than a grown man. "It... it **hurts**."

And Kolya... well. There's a lurch in his stomach that definitely isn't due to hunger. He considers standing up, moving away, even saying something... but he doesn't. Instead, he draws Rodney a little closer, trying to hold on to him without...

...without what? He's a Genii, and McKay is an Atlantean. This should be simple, productive, and as violent as necessary. But it isn't. Of course it isn't. It hasn't been since they dropped onto this accursed world. And maybe... maybe he needs to accept that.

"I know," he says. "I know."

Rodney needs sympathy more than perhaps most people realise. It's why he looks for it so much, even if he hasn't worked out that it's the worst way to get it. The scientist wriggles just a little, every position agony, trying to get more comfort like it's the first and last time he'll ever get it. It isn't, but he can't actually remember the last time he did more than pat someone. The thought is... distressing.

I want to go home, he says inside his head. Please, just let me go home. Instead, he sniffs. "Please stun me, to make it stop."

"...All right."

Slowly, he starts to move, to get up - and then he hesitates. And watching Acastus Kolya really hesitate like that is fairly alarming without even taking context into account. Watching him hesitate **twice** would probably cause a large number of his subordinates to run for cover.

This is a different situation altogether, and he finally knows it. Quite suddenly, he rolls Rodney briskly but very, very carefully onto his back, leaning down to plant a quick, desperate kiss on his lips.

And then? He moves fast. He moves fast because he's not sure he can stop to look the man in the eyes right now. On his feet in seconds, Kolya has the stunner drawn, levelled to fire.

Rodney blinks. And then blinks some more. And moves his lips in a very adequate impression of a fish. A very, very dumb fish, making no sound whatsoever.

"....ngrk."

Of all the things he's ever expected, that probably rates as the least. Oh, apart from that time with the cauliflower cheese.

And Kolya? Shoots him. Doesn't stop, doesn't hesitate any more, doesn't say a word. The blast strikes home, knocking Rodney back into temporary artificial oblivion, filling the air with a single electric roar before silence returns.

For a very long moment, Kolya stands there, stunner at his side, staring and staring. He's not entirely sure he believes what just happened, and running through it repeatedly in his mind doesn't seem to help.

No. No. Block everything, get out of here, and worry about thinking later. His instincts kick in, and he goes back to Rodney, slinging the stunner over his own back again to leave his hands free. Then he picks up the unconscious scientist, as carefully as he can, carrying him in both arms.

Finally, finally, **finally,** he approaches the Gate, which still ripples with that ethereal blue light, the wormhole to his homeworld remaining open. He climbs up the steps, and, in one oddly blissful second, walks forward into the event horizon, leaving the Planet of the Dinosaurs behind at last.

And then, he's stepping out onto a world wreathed in night; a cool, grassy, landscape on the border of a forest, the sky overhead dotted with glittering stars.

Home.

Considering how long the gate was open for, Kolya knows there will be people nearby, coming to investigate, and isn't afraid to attract their attention.

"Medic!" he shouts. "Medic!"

Moments later, troops start appearing in all directions, their impressive array of weaponry pointing at the unexpected arrivals - battle-readiness blending to utter surprise as they finally see who has just stumbled out of the gate:

Commander Acastus Kolya, looking thoroughly exhausted, and covered in mud, blood, bits of tree, and a series of small but nasty-looking gashes - with what looks very much like a Wraith stunner slung over his back, and what clearly _is_ an unconscious, badly-wounded Atlantean in his arms.

They stare. They stare a lot. As they do, Kolya suppresses the urge to yell at them, and walks slowly out onto the grass beneath the gate steps. Carefully, he drops to his knees, lays Rodney on the ground, and then promptly passes out right beside him.

And just before he does, he mutters the only thing that really seems right in the situation.

"I'm going to want points for this."

Ironic, really.

**********************


	2. The Geneva Convention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now they are back on the Genii homeworld, politics and diplomacy make for difficult bedfellows in Rodney and Acastus' awkward relationship.

It is some hours later and deep within the Genii bunker, Kolya stands in a small room, staring out of the window - which, of course, looks over the internal layout of the bunker city itself, all grey and clunking and **alive**.

Behind him, Rodney McKay lies - still unconscious - on a single hospital bed. The man has been through quite a lot in the last few hours, though, of course, he doesn't know it yet. And although the Genii doctors might not quite be up to Atlantean standards, they're still much better than people give them credit for. As a result, it looks as though Rodney will not be dying of dinosaur-related injuries any time soon.

And for that... Kolya is infinitely grateful. He's grateful for a lot right now, actually - to be back in presentable uniform, armed, alive... home.

He does, however, still have one slight problem. What is he going to say when Rodney finally comes to..?

Rodney's first words on waking, oddly enough, are, "No, not the jif lemon..." or a close approximation thereof. He slaps a hand to his face, rubbing over his eyes with a lack of co-ordination brought on, amongst other things, by various drugs and the like.

"...need some coffee very soon if anyone wants any work done."

The commander actually blinks at him, turning around at the first sign of movement, and feeling... very odd indeed as he finds himself looking at Rodney again.

Sometimes there's a reason why 'deny' rhymes with 'Genii.'

"Doctor. How are you feeling?"

Stupid question, really. But he has to start with something.

Rodney blinks for a moment or two, confusion fairly obviously written all over his face. "Wait, is this another nightmare? Because if you're about to tell me I failed my physics paper through artistic ineptitude, I'd rather go back to sleep."

"No. I assure you, this is as real as it gets."

Whether or not that is a good thing remains to be seen.

Rodney stares. Then stares. Then lifts up the sheets to make sure he still has two legs. He wiggles his toes experimentally, and hisses slightly in pain. Still holding the sheet, he looks up.

"Ah. So this would be... not Kansas then."

"...No, Doctor. This is not Kansas."

He has no idea where Kansas is, naturally. But it makes sense that this is not it.

Rodney closes his eyes, rolls them up as though heavenward. Genii. Pain. Dinosaurs. Dragons. Boots. Wraith. His seventh-grade teacher. He thinks perhaps he can rule out the dragons and the teacher as his subconscious, but after that things get a little hazy. Things like...

Kolya.

Rodney's mouth trembles, even as his eyes stay closed. 

"I..." His voice squeaks a little, so he tries again. "I suppose I am on your planet. Well. Clearly I'm not on Atlantis, anyway. Not that you could get there, anyway. Not now."

"This is my homeworld, yes. We came through right after... you passed out. Do you remember?"

Kolya looks really very level. It's all a lie, of course. And not a very steady one.

Except there was crying. And... hugging? And...

Rodney's face goes... a mixture between blank, horror, panic and just plain ‘WTF’. Acronym, not words. Not words at all. It all happens very, very fast. Emotions generally do.

"...Uh."

And it's fairly clear to Kolya which thoughts have just crossed the good doctor's mind. He sinks into the chair beside the bed, maintaining eye-contact through sheer force of will.

"...I take it you **do** remember?"

"...the part where you shot me?"

Because, really, that part is least scary. He **asked** to be shot, after all.

Worrying, isn't it, when being shot is the least of your problems? Rodney fusses with the bedsheets, swallowing hard.

"...amongst other things..."

Kolya can feel the ellipses starting to take up residence, and that is never good. Normally, he has little difficulty saying what he means - unless he's lying of course. Which, right now, he has no intention of doing.

"...I didn't bang my head or anything, did I?" Rodney asks, even though it's clear from his tone of voice he knows precisely what isn't being said. Not often a very good liar, is Rodney McKay, and at the minute he's flushed red and squirming under the covers.

"Because if I did, then I might have been hallucinating. With the stress and the hypoglycaemia and blood loss and not having slept well..."

Which is Rodney's way of handing a Get Out Of Jail Free card. And also, avoiding... things. Like Kolya's eyes, suddenly really interested in the sheets he has in a deathgrip.

Well. 'Deny' may not rhyme with 'Atlantean,' but maybe it should - though McKay's remark doesn't exactly come as a surprise.

And it's quite possible that Kolya does not hold with Get Out Of Jail Free cards **at all**. "No," he says. "You received a number of injuries, but none to the head."

Depends what you define as an 'injury', Rodney supposes, but doesn't dare say it. Instead, he presses his lips together firmly, as though if they can't be seen it... actually, he doesn't even make much sense to himself right now.

...and this? Is really confusing. Because, okay, he was unconscious, but he doubts much happened then anyway. And... he winces, slightly. No, that doesn't seem right.

But why on earth is Kolya **talking** to him, and why **now** , when Rodney most certainly does **not** want to talk?

He stares dumbly, actually quite thrown and with no idea what to say. "Oh," he says, faintly at last. "That's fortunate. My head is the best thing about me."

The commander is a little lost for words - another very, very bad sign, and even more so when you actually **want** to have a conversation about something. He keeps trying to find a suitable way to direct the discussion, but nothing really seems suitable.

Typical.

"You should be all right in a couple of days. Our doctors were able to deal with the dinosaur-related damage you sustained."

Pathetic. He really rather hates himself for this.

"Right. That's... You have told them I'm allergic to citrus, haven't you? I mean, it slips people's minds..."

This? Is more awkward than... well. Anything, really.

Oddly enough, Kolya **has** mentioned that point - only a short time after he himself came to, in fact - which some might call helpful, and others quite alarmingly stalker-ish.

"So. What will you do to m-- then?"

"I don't know yet. I need to have a... conversation with Cowan."

It's strange, the way Kolya says the word 'conversation.' In fact, it sounds rather like polite conversing with his leader is currently a long way off his mental radar.

And he might just be stalling, as well.

Rodney plays with the sheets now, smoothing them out obsessively, removing every fold and crease so it lies flat over his legs.... and then he messes up the sheets. Because...

... _dear God, please tell me I'm not wearing a hospital gown_ , he thinks, which only makes things worse. Everything's collapsing in on itself, everything becoming more significant than it ought. It's hard to tell what's trivial, now, as everything has its own special significance and resonates.

"Oh. Right. So I just... stay here and don't plan any heroic escapes, then?"

"That... would be wise."

Kolya can hear himself speaking, hear the motivation behind the words, and yet they are utterly empty. Why isn't he saying what he needs to say? He always says what needs to be said. It's never a problem.

It is now. He has the right sentences in his head, and nothing seems to make **saying** them any easier.

"....any clue when you'll know what's happening?" Rodney asks, trying to meet his eyes. "Because as much as I like hospital food in theory, and -" - and something he won't talk about - "Sitting around not knowing is irritating as hell."

"...that all depends on when I go to have that aforementioned conversation with Cowan..."

And then, as Rodney tries to meet his eyes, there's a moment when they really **are** looking at each other. It's hard to know exactly why, but something about this is oddly motivating, and when Kolya tries to hesitate again, he forces himself not to.

"...besides, I think we... need to talk first."

Rodney has always hated those words. Always.

"Uh. Okay." Though I thought you hated talking.

"After all, the situation has... changed somewhat." Oh look. He's stalling again.

"Yes. I'm on your planet. In bed. And with no dinosaurs trying to eat me."

Not **quite** what Kolya meant.

"I mean... about what happened when we got to the gate."

Kolya is mentally kicking himself now, still unable to work out why a man with his particular personality-set is unable to articulate a simple problem.

"Look. If you want to say something, just spit it out. I'm... We're both grown men. If you want to say something, say it."

The outburst is almost despite himself. Rodney doesn't really want to talk about it, but he doesn't want to listen to Kolya beating about the bushes much more. It scares him to see the other man all flummoxed, even more than it scares him to wonder what the hell is going on in his head. That and he really needs the bathroom sometime soon.

Even considering his current verbal predicament, Kolya is not one to take this kind of outburst lightly, and he has to force himself not to snap back - because it **really** would not help matters. It might make him briefly **feel** better, might restore the status quo for a few moments... but it would only end up making things worse in the long run.

It's clear what's happened. Being on that planet for so long has driven him crazy. Yes. That must be it. Well. Possibly...

"I kissed you," Kolya says, abruptly. "You deserve an explanation."

Oh dear. This looks rather like the border of Meaningful Conversation Territory. And he's not sure he can go back there so soon after the last time.

Rodney grinds his teeth again, squirming uncomfortably. Why couldn't Kolya just, you know, do the honourable thing and forget about all that? All this... people-stuff Rodney's not very good at. One look at his latest attempts at wooing would be sufficient example: a hate-hate relationship with a fellow astrophysicist he may have been the slightest bit jealous of and a woman who stole his ZPM after having him dig in holes for hours on end. Oh wait, **Kolya** had been **there** , too.

"Or maybe just a box of chocolates," he blurts out, arms folding defensively over his chest.

McKay’s eyes close, deep breaths. Pause. Say something more… fitting. "Yes. Right. We're both aware of what happened. Do you think we could just discuss this rather than drag out the agony by thinking about what we should be saying? Because I really hate being rejected in the first place, and now I apparently have twice as much of the population to worry about, I've been stuck in a foreign bed for who knows how long and I really, **really** need to go to the bathroom."

"I **am** trying to discuss it," Kolya insists. "Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of holding a two-way conversation. But this isn't easy, you know."

...and why is the word 'rejected' already slipping into everything?

"I kissed you, and then I shot you, which hardly makes matters any simpler. Plus, I'm still trying to make sense of everything **else** that happened to us."

“No, I expect it isn't easy. You have me tortured, drag me around no less than two alien planets, threaten and indeed shoot me with various and sundry weapons and now, apparently, have found out you find sarcasm irresistible, despite the fact you can't actually converse with me and spend all your time trying to ignore and/or threaten me. Forgive me for not believing in any ability to have a conversation in which the primary objective is not extracting information, due to having no experience of it whatsoever, despite numerous attempts."

Once Rodney starts, Rodney does not stop. It's like this floodgate. Once his damn's down, you're a gonner.

Breathe. And then clarify: "Right. You shot me. I did, however, ask you to shoot me, so that's slightly less weird than it could be, but is still far from normal behaviour. The rest of the stuff? That was all Wraiths and dinosaurs."

Possibly the urge to urinate is psychosomatic. He tries to think it is. But thinking about it just makes it worse.

God. Why does everything always have to go wrong for him?

And Kolya? Snaps. Not in the way he usually would. This time, it's harder to spot - no physical response, no one-sided verbal attack, just... a shift in his plan for dealing with this. The root of the problem is fairly simple... he hates being out of control. If a situation isn't playing out correctly, he needs to be able to alter it. But now... he feels very, very out of control.

"That all just proves my point!" he declares. "You really **do** just see me as a one-dimensional thug whose reluctance to talk to you as a result of said opinion obviously demonstrates an inability to converse with **anybody**! I changed my opinion of you and yet you show a complete refusal to return the favour!"

Oh. He's shouting now. That isn't going to help.

"Maybe I would see you in a different light if you, oh, I don't know, **acted** differently? It's all well and good insisting you can **talk** , but you don't! I tried for hours and hours to talk to you and all you did was make me feel three inches tall. If I want to be insulted and ignored I can go to anybody, all right?"

Rodney grits his teeth. "How. Am. I. Supposed. To. Talk. To. You. If all you ever do is rebuff any attempt I make to, oh I don't know, actually **talk** to you, do something vaguely like communicate, when all the time you demand I understand and accept everything about you with **no** assistance? How am I **supposed** to react? And... and even when you kissed me you just **did** it, you didn't ask me, and you didn't give me any warning and now you're making me feel like nothing because you say you want to discuss it and you won't, and you get annoyed when I try." 

No. Not crying again. Not. It’s the pain and stress. Really.

"Maybe if you stopped to look at what other people are doing, you might learn something about them."

"This is precisely why! You attack everything I say, and then when I try to deal with matters by backing off, you attack that too!"

Deep breaths. Focus. **Focus**.

"When we were in that clearing, I felt something that I haven't experienced for a long time... I wanted to help you, to prove to you that you weren't alone. I saved your life, damn it, but only then did I realise how much you had saved mine as well."

Oh dear. This isn't just Meaningful Conversation Territory. This is the capital city, trade routes and all.

"Backing off is not a way of dealing with matters." Rodney says that like he's never done it. Like he's not backed away from… things he doesn't even want to think about things. Too many dysfunctional relationships, he's seen. Too many. "And I don't think a simple request for actual, vocal engagement is unreasonable. **You** are the one who thinks I think you're a thug. Would I be talking to you if I thought you were nothing more than a trigger-happy testosterone-charged moron? Well, I would, but I wouldn't be attempting to make conversation, I'd be insulting your lack of intelligence in a way you wouldn't understand, but that is neither here nor there."

Breath. Another. No passing out now, Rodney. 

Oh no. Bonding. Rodney hates bonding. It's another thing he really sucks at.

"Well..." What do you say to that? "Why did you have to get me to scream at you before you could say that? And yes I did save your life, thank you very much. So nice to know you noticed."

And... processing what Kolya just said doesn't make it make much more sense. It's just... weird. Weird and... weird. Normally people don't feel that about Rodney. Not apart from Colonel Sheppard, anyway. And Rodney wasn't entirely sure he did either.

"You had no one else to talk to,” Kolya throws back. “And if I hadn't been there, no doubt you would have just talked to the dinosaurs! Who, I might hasten to add, would not have given you the chance to shut up, and instead eaten you on the spot! Like I said, this isn't easy for me. Expressing my own feelings is rarely high on the agenda in most situations. And you are not making my attempts to do so any easier."

He pauses, drawing another deep breath. "Do you know what you are, Doctor? You are the first member of an opposing faction whom I have seen as something other than a source of information in a very long time indeed. Forgive me if having my entire worldview inverted is causing a touch of irritability!"

That probably wasn't the best way to put it, but he really isn't thinking particularly clearly.

Rodney stares at him. "I don't… you seem to have a faulty picture of me. I don't... **have** friends. I have people who I work with who tolerate me. Okay? Who put up with me. Some of them might like me, now, but I'm not the kind who goes around charming everybody's pants off." What the hell did the man want from him? Undying pledges of love, when they couldn't talk without yelling?

He tries to calm. In through the nose and out through the mouth. 

"You want to know what I think? I think you're intelligent. I think you're quick. I think you take far too much joy in your work, but you try to think what you do is right. I think you're also about as screwed up as I am, which is saying something. Okay? That better?"

I wasn’t expecting you to talk about your feelings, Rodney thinks. Well, not before. He doesn't say this, however, as he does have some sense of propriety.

And that's... a really weird thing to say to someone. But understandable, he expects. You can't think too much about the other side and do what needs doing. But that was why Elizabeth was here. 

"Okay.” More needed. “So we've worked out you have empathy. And anger. Lots of that. Jealousy, too, and compassion. My god," Rodney says, smacking his mouth in mocked shock, overdone. "You're actually **human**."

Then, annoyed, Rodney leans over, grabs him by the shirt, yanks him over (with more strength than many credit him for) and kisses Kolya, roughly. See how **he** likes being pulled around...

Pay attention, world. For the next five seconds, Acastus Kolya is going to be completely, **utterly** surprised.

_Human_. Coming from Rodney McKay, that's quite a compliment.

Once the five seconds of shock have passed, however, Kolya has no intention of appearing taken aback - and as for being pulled around, well, the man does have a habit of beating people up for fun. Physicality is not an issue, and he's not going to let a little thing like this interfere with the next move.

He grasps the side of Rodney's head, dragging them both in closer, not holding back at all.

Deep down, he's really very impressed - and that is quite a compliment too.

Rodney hadn't really planned further than this. In fact, he hadn't actually planned **this** far. It sort of happened in a 'let's see if you like it' thing, or, 'let's see if you **really** want to kiss me or if it's just some weird fascination with the near dead I don't want to know about' or, 'let's just kiss the man'. Or something.

Although it's rather stupid to have expected anything else, he thinks - even with his deep down horrible paranoid feeling that this is all just another mindfuck designed to kick his confidence and self-image in the metaphorical balls. 

But kissing him doesn't seem to explain much of anything either. Apart from a) Kolya apparently (but not necessarily) really does like kissing him, b) Rodney probably needs a shave, c) that thing with the hospital kink is getting worse and he'll never be able to look Carson in the eye again, d) kissing men isn't all that much different from kissing women and, e) ...damn. He might be the tiniest bit gay.

Rodney panics inside, but holds onto Kolya's collar almost hard enough to choke him, refusing to let go. He kisses hurriedly and messily, like he feels, opening his mouth just a little to drag his tongue over Kolya's lips. Rational thought apparently left after e).

Kolya parts his lips a little at Rodney's touch, his own mindset echoing a similar detachment from most rational thought. All he can think is something along the sensible, Genii equivalent of 'wow.'

He leans closer still, running his hand through Rodney's hair, thumb brushing at his ear - needing to prolong this, because the conversation that follows it will no doubt be... tricky.

Except that all kind of makes Rodney jump inside, in a weird way he's not entirely sure he can remember properly. Maybe it is like this, but - er. Been a while. 

Hand flat on Kolya's chest, holding him back as he pulls away just a little. Licks his lips, swallows. Now would be the time to say something, to make sure this was on the same terms for both of them or something. Actually, to make sure he had the faintest idea what was going on - other than in the crudest possible sense. But that would involve... feelings again. Probably. Or lack thereof. Or something.

_...Damnit, Rodney McKay, why can't you just think without the brain for once?_ he scowls at himself, close enough to feel Kolya's breath. To feel the heat in the chest under his hand. Oh god, this is such a terrible idea. 

Er. He doesn't appear to be doing much about it, either way, though.

Kolya lets Rodney pull away, but he's still leaning in close, head tilted a little, gaze fixed on the other man.

"Are you all right?" And this might be Kolya-speak for 'why did you stop?' - although it could also be a rare sign of genuine consideration for the feelings of another.

Rodney's eyes move from meeting Kolya's, to dodging down, flitting up and down as he tries to take control of himself. 

"...Er. I just wondered exactly what we're doing, because I tend to get..." Flustered, is what he wants to say, but he waves his free hand around expansively. "Well, clearly I know what we're **doing** , but not what we're... doing," he finishes, lamely.

"Look. Just ignore I said anything, okay, because now I'm just rambling and I'm always rambling..."

"It's all right," Kolya replies, tone rather quiet. "Say what you need to say. This is... unexpected for me, too."

Possibly not quite **as** unexpected, but even so. And he is still trying to process what just happened.

"Well I don't know what you do on your... enlightened little planet or whatever. But we - well, I - tend not to go around kissing people unexpectedly at all." Actually, not much ever, really. "And not... uh." Men, he thinks. But he thinks saying that might be slightly rude - instead, he waves his hand about some more.

"And I don't want to start thinking... actually I don't know what to think and now it's just awkward because I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing or thinking and it's just all..." A frustrated noise, and he meets Kolya's eyes again, trying to find out what the hell is happening. Apart from... well. That.

And now, Kolya gives him a very slight smirk, albeit one bereft of any hostility. "You just did," he points out. " **Very** unexpectedly, I might add."

There's that word again. It's cropping up a lot at the moment... which is not exactly surprising in itself.

"Exactly! And you're not a dumb blonde with a chest you could poke eyes out with. Not that that's all I go for... there are some very nice brunettes too..."

Rodney belatedly realises that might be Too Much Information. Oh well. "Yes, well. I... Oh god, I'm pulling a Sheppard, aren't I..?"

The commander's first reaction is to stare at Rodney with a somewhat lighter version of his 'what the hell are you talking about?' expression. But then, after allowing himself another second to think, things start to make more sense.

"This is the first time you've kissed another man, isn't it?" he asks, tactfully.

And, of course, he avoids making any response to the re-appearance of Sheppard's name again. Because that **never** leads to helpful matters.

"Er. Things on Earth are... well. Some places are fine with it, like Canada, where I come from. But then there's America, where I worked and... let's just say it's not so wise to be... that way inclined in the areas I worked in, and it's never really... cropped up..."

And now why is he talking about his history? This is just... weird. Weird, weird, weird.

Weird.

"I mean if this is one of those 'war makes for strange bedfellows' or... or Stockholm or.... post traumatic stress things or whatever, I don't think it's... particularly healthy, for either of us."

Even if right now the thought is really, really crossing his mind. Damnit. Shouldn't embarrassment make this... less viable? Sometimes Rodney thinks his wiring must be completely back to front.

"I... don't think this is entirely a result of what happened to us - at least, not from my point of view." There's the barest flicker in Kolya’s eyes as he speaks - mind flashing back to Dagan. It's the first time he's been able to do so without dwelling on everything that went wrong, which is a relief in its own right.

"Right. Right. Which leaves us..."

Where, exactly? Rodney’s hand is still resting on Kolya's chest, he realises, where he can feel it rise and fall. His palms are sweaty and probably hotter than where he's touching, actually. The cogs are working visibly behind his eyes, blue and blinking and oh so very open. He doesn't really believe in deceit, does Rodney. Not conscious deceit anyway.

"...I... never really thought like that before, I..." Was terminally straight? Hitting on Allina? Trying not to be thrown off a balcony?

Although... there had been... something. Rodney had put all that down to fear. Though who the hell knew what he was feeling any more. "This is just... a little strange. Which is understatement of the year."

Fingers brushing gently over Kolya's collarbone, contemplative as he stares at them. "Where does it leave us now?" Because... certain thoughts, though weird, are beginning to have some kind of appeal. Maybe they always did. It's rather hard to tell. And my god, he really is having this conversation.

"I don't know," Kolya admits. "I hadn't really planned this far ahead. All I can say for now is that I... need to know what you want."

He leans in to the new contact from Rodney, savouring every second because he's not sure how many more there will be. There's so many things he could say at the moment, but all of them seem... wrong, in a way.

It's odd, too, being this... diplomatic and negotiable... when he's so used to aiming for something and letting nothing stop him. But he knows it's the only way he can let this resolve itself without destroying everything.

"I'm not sure. Things are moving... fast." A slight laugh. "Though if you had suggested we go for a meal together I would have thought you out of your mind..." 

Then a wave of sadness crosses, and Rodney's brow knots. "Whatever does happen... You do know I can't willingly leave my people. They need me. They need me if we want to stand any kind of chance against the Wraith. I know it sounds egoistic, but it's true."

Drum, fingers, drum on the bedspread. "No, I was wrong. This is even more awkward than just... doing. Maybe you need to see what your... commander, or whatever, wants to do with me before we have this conversation properly?"

Rodney's words hit Kolya more than he'd care to admit, but he manages to respond without skipping a beat. "I know. I know you'd never leave them, and I..."

Part of him wishes Rodney **would** leave Atlantis, but he's certain that will never happen - and if he was forced to... he wouldn't be Rodney anymore. Something about him is tied to Atlantis, and Kolya knows he has to accept that. He might not **want** to, but it's the only way forward.

"...don't want to make you," he finishes, with only the briefest pause. "I am not in an easy situation, however - this little incident may well re-secure my career, but trying to persuade Cowan to let you go... will require something more."

Rodney hadn't entirely thought about Kolya's career, though it having taken a knock or two... since the siege and the incident on Dagan.... it did make sense. Yes. No wonder he hated Sheppard.

The doctor sits back, clearly thinking. "More like what?"

That's a very good question, which Kolya now finds himself dwelling on with some urgency. Of course, he knows what the options are - and only one would resolve this in a way that both of them could live with.

Except... he's not entirely sure he wants to live with it. He's not even entirely sure he can put that one possibility into words right now. But it's all he has... the one thing that might allow everything to play out suitably.

"Cowan is not going to release you to an enemy of the Genii on a whim," he begins. "He might, however, consider a tactical release to someone with whom we have some semblance of an alliance... even if that alliance does not yet exist."

He realises he's not being very clear, but it's hard to articulate thoughts like this. Many of them do not fit well with his mindset.

"You think that would even work, after what's happened?" Rodney frowns, thinking of Sheppard. Of Elizabeth... Perhaps. 

"And you'll change his mind... how?"

At this, Kolya shakes his head a little. "Right now... I don't know. But I will have to think fast. No doubt he will be expecting a full report soon."

And oh dear. He really is starting to have these thoughts. These thoughts which are so, so wrong.

These thoughts which, nevertheless, might be his best chance.

"Americans have a history of putting up with people they haven't liked in the past," Rodney points out as helpfully as he can. "Admittedly usually they give them McDonalds - oh, and Starbucks - but I doubt they'll give you flattened animal products in this case." He really does think he's being positive.

"So." Pause. Breath. Another pause. Oh look, oxygen...

Kolya stares at Rodney as he drops into full McKay-speak again. And finding a suitable reply is much harder when you can't simply snap back, on account of having just shared the most incredibly unexpected kiss of your entire life with the person in question.

Which is something that warrants at least a little civility. Even from Kolya. Though it does limit his usual way of holding tricky conversations.

"I am going to see Cowan," he announces, resolute, seeing no other way to proceed.

The Chief's office is some distance from the infirmary, so he can work out exactly what he's going to say whilst en-route. Hopefully.

"Right. That... that would be a good plan. Seeing Cowan." Rodney bites his lip again, trying to... ah, that one. The one who looked oddly familiar... twice over. 

"So I'll just... stay here, shall I?"

"You'll have to," Kolya replies. "And you're certainly better off here than... anywhere else."

He pauses, now, somewhat unsure as to what to say by way of a temporary goodbye.

Life never used to be this complicated.

"Right. Staying here. That I can do." 

The words sort of fall emptily, no real weight behind them - and a terrible gravity tugging between them. It makes Rodney's palms itch. He tries to look collected, but fails miserably.

In the end, Kolya settles for a simple, "I'll be back once I know what's going to happen."

Then he stands, hesitating a little as the final, lingering contact between them is lost, and pausing before he starts moving towards the door.

Rodney, for once, keeps his reply inside of his head. It's too muddled, and a sharp retort might - might be unwise right now. He simply nods, clutching the sheets up a little higher, and waiting for people to tell him what to do.

With nothing more to say, Kolya opens the door, and steps back out into the corridor beyond. Two guards stand there - evidently oblivious to anything that might have been going on inside the room. Which is good - for their future survival, if nothing else.

Leaving very firm orders that Rodney is to be moved to a secure location once the doctors release him - but that he is not to be harmed, Kolya sets off for the meeting of his lifetime, and the conversation he never, ever believed he could have. The man who spoke so often of his hatred for the Atlanteans would now stand and say that a change of relations was needed.

Part of him hopes that this fact alone will add credibility to his argument. And part of him knows he will need something more.

***

All in all, the Genii treat Rodney fairly well. Well, when he's their... guest-cum-visitor rather than visitor-cum-guest. In a way it almost reminds him of his time in the Cheyenne Mountain, in Colorado. That seems so many lifetimes ago now, though.

The basic layout is the same. Dull, drab grey and dull, monotonous uniforms with ranks and insignias that had never held much importance for him. No lines painted on the floor here, though. And no Samantha Carter...

The food, oddly enough, is just the right side of disgustingly sameishly bland to make him happy. If all the food tastes like the hospital food does, anyway. He sees no reason for it to be otherwise - even if these people **are** pretend farmers.

The room they give him is small and functional. Bed. Toilet. Little else but grey. Nothing dangerous, nothing precious. Just him in plain grey work clothes or prisoner clothes. It's hard to tell the difference. His own must have been ruined on... that planet.

That planet.

The planet Rodney hadn't been sure he'd ever see the back of. If things hadn't even got more complicated and confusing since...

***

Kolya, meanwhile, walks the corridors of the Genii bunker, drawing ever closer to Cowan's office, in the heart of the underground citadel - until, finally, he's approaching that familiar door, flanked by guards of its own. He knocks. Enters. Closes the door again.

Outside, there is a very long silence, the guards hardly moving, seeing nothing odd in what's going on. At first, utter normalcy reigns. But then... the occasional shouted words start becoming noticeable. The conversation within the room is clearly becoming somewhat heated, and the sudden outbursts become more and more frequent.

After at least fifteen minutes, the door swings open, and Kolya ducks out, grabs one of the guards from the corridor, and drags him back inside without explanation. The volume of conversation dips somewhat - making the remaining guard all the more nervous.

At this point, there is a very loud gunshot, some indeterminate screaming, and then silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Then the door swings open again, and the missing guard stumbles out, covered in rather a lot of his own blood, and looking very like a man who's just had a run-in with a certain trigger-happy Genii commander. Inside the room, the non-bleeding guard can see Chief Cowan looking particularly irritated, and Commander Kolya looking... well. Almost smug, actually.

The injured guard falls on his partner, who can only blink at the two men in the room beyond.

"Get him out of here," Cowan orders, in his I-have-more-important-things-to-deal-with voice.

Kolya shuts the door again, and now there is no one to hear the conversation become somewhat quieter. It drags itself out, though, continuing long after another pair of guards arrive to replace the first two.

Finally, the door opens one last time. "You'd better be right about this, Commander," comes Cowan's voice.

"I know," Kolya replies, as he leaves.

And in his eyes shines a look last seen when he stood over a darkened entryway leading into a long-hidden chamber, gun in hand, victory so palpably close - a look that says, quite clearly, **got you**.

Hopefully, things will work out better this time.

***

Being in a simple grey cube shape can be very boring. No laptop. No pen and paper. No book. No distressingly illiterate graffiti on the smooth, smooth walls. No trace of any human being ever having entered before. No... personality.

There is very little to do inside a cold, grey cube. One can estimate the surface area of the walls, and the cubic volume of air in the room assuming normal air pressure and composition. Weighing in other variables takes a good few minutes, and then it's left to comparing the different shades of grey and wondering if he can ever steal a spoon or two, or if he's going to be fed things that don't require cutlery for the rest of his life. His life here.

Which, of course, might not be forever. Even if it feels like it.

Eventually, tired, Rodney lies down on the bed, knees bent, arms behind his neck in a position slightly foreign to him. He stares at the ceiling above, not for the first time wishing for something to distract him from the ceaseless, ceaseless monotony. Even dinosaurs would be preferable to bored isolation. He doesn’t even have the solitude of his own thoughts to keep him company, because whenever he opens up the internal dialogue… the… sheer confusion kicks in again. With this. With everything. And no matter how hard he tries, he can’t resolve it…

Meanwhile, with his... very unusual conversation finally dealt with, Kolya decides that what he really, really needs is to fight someone. Summoning up a pair of his regular duelling partners, he heads down to one of the training rooms to practice with them for a little while.

To give him time. Time to think. Time to attempt to regain some semblance of normalcy.

The duel doesn't last particularly long - mostly because a combination of stress, recent events, and some rather odd Genii drugs he's still got in his system from his own brief stay in the infirmary, make Kolya go all-out - more so than usual.

Eventually, having put **another** person in the infirmary - that's two in less than an hour - the commander decides enough is enough. He returns to his own quarters, showers, changes, paces, and, not long after, sets off again.

A short while later, he's nodding to the guards at Rodney's door, metal clunking as he lifts the latch and steps slowly in.

Sometime after Rodney worked out all of the Grand Theory of Unification, sans the really complicated long division, and started drawing graphs comparing artistic competency, musician dexterity, note clustering and key frequency charted against popularity, past and present for as many classical composers and even 'recent' musicians he can think of, Rodney got mind-numbingly, toe-cringingly, teeth-grindingly bored.

Bored. Bored. Bored.

It's even worse than he remembers college lectures. Even worse than the other times he's been held captive, because then at least there was someone to complain to. And no matter how loud or long he complains - oh and he does - no one comes in.

Until, just as he's sucking his breath in for another bellow, the door opens. Rodney shifts back on the bed a little, eyeing the door warily.

Kolya shuts the door once he's inside. He always does. He's the kind of person who believes open doors to be very bad news indeed. In this instance, however, the action seems rather ominous.

He stares at Rodney, wondering how best to explain the current situation to him - how best to tell him exactly what the deal with Cowan was.

Rodney isn't exactly renowned for his people skills, and Kolya is not one you want to play poker with. So Rodney sits up, pushing himself into a more upright sprawl, frowning questioningly at the commander.

"...So?"

Straight to the point. Somewhat unexpected, though not unwelcomed.

"Cowan and I had a... discussion." Oh. What an apt word. They had a fairly severe shouting match, punctuated by Kolya shooting a man to make a point. What that point is... he's not going to admit, not now.

"Eventually, I was able to persuade him that it would be beneficial to establish a new dialogue with your people, in an attempt to repair relations between us. He is going to contact them soon."

Rodney is self-conscious at the best of times. Being stuck in a secret underground bunker is not the best of times. Also, he's... in a compromised position again. Lower. It intimidates him somewhat more now than it would have before, and he tries not to let the unease show.

"That's... That's very good news," he says, if a little less than enthusiastically. He knows full well what the Atlantis team will think of the Genii - will think of them holding him captive, too. In fact, he still isn't entirely sure why he doesn't think the same thing himself. He does, on some level. Some panicked, higher brain level.

And then there's his lower hindbrain. The lower hindbrain that appears to be more developed than he'd previously suspected. And more... encompassing, too.

"So what's... what's happening to me in the meantime?"

Of course that question was coming. It shouldn't be awkward to deal with. The answer is straight enough... supposedly.

"In order for the proposed plan to work... Cowan is not going to reveal to your people that you and I are alive, for the time being."

"He's... what?" 

Rodney stares. Rodney does a good line in disbelieving stare. It usually comes just before the long, breathless diatribe that few people who aren't professional singers or swimmers could manage without an oxygen mask afterwards.

"And in the meantime I just... don't exist? Do you really think that they'll trust you if you hide something like this?"

And the commander can see that storm on the Rodney-horizon. He can see it, but he has to press on, to explain, to get everything clear. Or try, at least. Hopefully without losing control of his emotional responses again.

"The aim is that talks will take place independent of any knowledge of what happened to us. And then, if and when we reach a critical point in negotiations, the intention is to reveal the truth - to release you as a final gesture."

It's a good plan - at least, from Kolya's point of view. Though he can see why Rodney may not agree.

"But only if they agree to an alliance with you," Rodney says, completing the thought. And if not, then...? 

"Yes. I know it's not ideal from your point of view... but you'll like the alternative even less."

"How do I know he's even going to try, and he isn't going to just start using me as a bargaining chip?"

Resisting the urge to start pacing, Kolya pauses before giving his answer to Rodney's question... because it's a difficult one. "You don't," he says, simply. "You'll hear about what's going on from me, and I will hear it from Cowan. It's the only way I could make this work."

Part of him wants to apologise for this, but he's really quite pleased with how everything has turned out, even if it's not ideal. Getting anywhere at all with a situation like this one is an achievement in itself.

A moment's pause, then Rodney reluctantly nods. He doesn't have much choice in the situation, as he can see. No real bargaining material, as he knows the Genii as a people won't shy from somewhat dubious - or, at least, forceful - methods of persuasion. Though he doubts, somehow, that Kolya would be the one to attempt it this time.

His teeth grind with the effort of keeping his temper under check, of holding his tongue. It's more than obvious to anyone looking at him.

"Fine. I don't have a choice anyway." Then, as it occurs to him, a little roughly, "Thank you for trying."

Kolya sighs. "I know. And trust me, matters could have ended up much worse than this."

Rodney looks around the room. Sparse and Spartan. "No chance of some paper, at least?"

"I can arrange for you to be brought various things - within reason of course."

He wants to say something else, something more... helpful, but doesn't know what - and his mind is constantly dwelling on the fact that, had... certain events not taken place, he'd probably be interrogating the good doctor by now.

Rodney waves an arm, without much vigour, to indicate his current... lack of facilities. "Something to keep me from going insane. Something to read. Something to work on. Anything other than being left here like this."

He pauses, thinking. "I don't suppose me promising I won't attempt to escape with the pencil will help much, and I really can't think of anything I could do with a pencil anyway as all the people on guard duty here will be no doubt schooled to kill with their eyebrows and guards are generally male and so there's..."

He stops that thought right there. Looks somewhat pleadingly.

"And painkillers, if I can take any. Except not anything addictive. I've done that once before."

Trying to pass over **that** comment, Kolya instead goes for something more clear-cut. "The doctors will be checking up on you for the next few days, to make sure you're recovering fully from your... injuries."

And now his mind is straight back on the Planet of the Dinosaurs, an alarming number of moments flickering into remembrance. It was an... experience.

Embarrassed, Rodney nods. Licks his lips nervously, trying on various phrases. None of them seem to work.

"And you'll be... off negotiating? No, not if they want my people to think you're dead. That would be rather stupid of them, and they know I was last seen around you and there would be all sorts of questions."

Which is Rodney-speak for, what the hell are you doing now?

"I am on stand-down for now," Kolya tells him, levelly - which is Kolya-speak for 'I have to sit around and **do** nothing for an indeterminate length of time.'

It is also Kolya-speak for 'I am trying to say something again, but the words aren't working.'

This inability to say what he means, mean what he says, and know which is which, is getting rather trying. Kolya wonders, a little idly, if he might be losing it.

"Well, are you going to kiss me again or do I try my hand at the guard detail? Not literally... well, maybe, I don't know if I'm in to that kind of thing. Not that I didn't have an interesting college experience, but it wasn't interesting like that..."

For the briefest second, Kolya hesitates - if only because he isn't quite sure if Rodney's words were a taunt or a request. There's something oddly refreshing about interacting with someone who he **can't** read like a book - but all the same, it can get tricky.

Then, decision made, he crosses over to Rodney, simultaneously dropping to one knee at his side whilst he pushes the doctor back onto the bed, the movement quick but not violent.

And **now** Kolya kisses him again.

Though he might have expected a lot of things, being shoved backwards by a - why the hell was Kolya kneeling any - oh, yes. That was why. The bed clearly hasn't been used for much, and it's still more or less in perfect condition, fortunately, but it does go _prang_ rather interestingly when that happens. And then creaks quietly but not ominously as Rodney shuffles in an attempt to get comfortable without breaking contact. Lumbar support is incredibly important for anyone with a desk based job like...

Like kissing Kolya. But not on a desk, because there isn't one here. Though if there was one it would be less comfortable. More interesting, but less comfortable, all the same. Now it's just the four walls and the bed and them and... Rodney really hopes they make the doors extra thick so no one can hear all the rustling sounds as he grabs the back of the commander's head, holding him in close so he can't pull back without a fight.

Rodney doesn't kiss very often, though he likes to think he's an expert. Though currently no judge would likely give him points for technique, just for effort.

**This** is why Kolya has just risked almost everything he believes in - to finally be with someone who actually seems to want him back. He's not entirely sure why Rodney **does** \- or, indeed, if this is genuine, but all of his doubt is banished to the back of his mind, to be faced later.

Letting Rodney hold him in close, he runs his non-supporting hand through the doctor's hair again, the contact slow but with a distinctly possessive edge. And all of a sudden, he finds himself wondering what would have happened, back on the Planet, if he'd kissed Rodney long before they'd got to the Gate. If it would have helped matters or made them worse.

**Then** he realises he's thinking about trees from a somewhat different angle - namely, what two people can do **against** them - and decides it might be wise to pull his thoughts back to the present.

Rodney's suddenly rather happy he didn't settle for a pencil and a piece of paper. With the state of mind he's been in since they got back, he'd have got no work done at all. Not that he really had any work he could do with a pencil and paper, other than some simple puzzles he could construct himself. Some strange form of solitaire. With no marbles or playing cards.

He never was good at those games. Always far too competitive, and quick to anger and sulk if chance saw fit to deal him a bum hand.

Instead, this is much better. Ever since he arrived back and woke up, he's been on a sort of edge. A blue-black taste in the back of his nose and throat, like the carapace of some strange alien bug there at the end of each breath. An almost-sensation, prickling at his skin wherever the air brushed past. An odd, sort of tight feeling in his gut that has almost nothing to do with food. Although food's a nice idea, too.

Which means that whatever it was he's been tetchy about probably has a lot more to do with Kolya than he wanted to admit. A lot more to doing **this** with Kolya than he'd like to admit. Not that he's entirely sure what it is he is doing. Thinking. Anything.

His fingers slide down to the nape of Kolya's neck, resting on his collar, still against his skin. He needs to breathe at some point, so he breaks the kiss breathily, other hand holding Kolya's elbow to keep his arm in place. Dark, almost-black eyes fix on him for a moment, from this close up. Then they close again, and Rodney slides out his tongue over Kolya's lips once more.

That look has the most incredible effect on Kolya, sending a spiral of warmth right to his core, casting the last of his doubts well out of mental reach. He opens his mouth a little, brushing his tongue against Rodney's, movement bordering on hunger now.

And he knows what he wants - knows it more clearly than anything else he's felt for a long time. With the hand still grasping the back of Rodney's head, he pulls the doctor even closer, practically lifting both of them part-way off the bed in the process.

If he weren't already otherwise engaged, now would be about the time that Rodney would be at his most vocal. And possibly least intelligible, though most honest. As it is, it's just very honest happy noises he's making, somewhere at the back of his throat, in between the grunts from being pulled in ways that technically he's not sure he goes. Literally and possibly metaphorically also. His sore legs are protesting a little, but the hormones and the drugs are making it increasingly tolerable. Oh yes.

The mechanics of this are somewhat baffling. For one, it feels very weird that Kolya's hands are as big as his own. And there's no bra - but that should probably be classed as a positive, because whoever invented the bra clearly never meant them to come off once on. Then there's... the other thing. Which is near his thing. Which is weird. Nice, but weird. And when he moves, and when Kolya moves, it's... more than nice. Which is why Rodney, deciding that if he's dipped his toe in he might as well swim, grabs hold of Kolya's backside (which, okay, he likes backsides, even at the normalest of times) and yanks down. And bucks up. Because... _that_ was a good idea. Just to prove his point, he does it again. Only this time, he makes a **very** loud noise, forgetting his manners and all but shoving his tongue into Kolya's mouth.

Oh well. He can apologise later.

It isn't especially surprising that Kolya is enjoying how rough this is getting, although part of him - the part which beats people up as a pastime - suddenly wants to assert which one of them is calling the shots. With that in mind - along with a number of new and very appealing thoughts - he breaks away from Rodney just long enough to clamber fully onto the bed, more or less right on top of the doctor, and all but pinning him down.

Rodney certainly has no objections to Kolya being less far away. Even though this bed is really only made for one person, and designed to not be particularly comfortable either (though he can't help but wonder if any Genii bed would be 'just right') and the other man is certainly big and heavy enough to make the operation somewhat... constricting. 

Weirdly, Rodney rather likes that. And the lack of careful gentleness, the clumsy panic born from trying to do things right. This is just... doing. Which makes sense after all the pacing around one another.

**Then** Kolya kisses Rodney again, tongue tracing the inside of his mouth, tugging at the hem of his shirt with his free hand. It's about time he...

At this point, just as things really are about to get interesting, there's a heavy clunk from the corner of the room, and the door swings slowly open. A single Genii soldier walks in, freezing with an expression of complete and utter shock as he sees what's going on.

Kolya doesn't even think, as his instincts kick-in shockingly fast. He swings around, drawing his gun from its holster as he moves, pointing the weapon straight at the intruder.

And then he fires.

The man reels as the bullet smashes into his leg, clutching just above his knee and struggling to stand - at which point, Kolya gives him a look that would melt lead.

"If you want to talk to me, I suggest you wait outside," he says, tone deeply level.

Odd. That's the second of his own people he's shot today. Must be frustration.

Rodney shivers slightly - and not from the cold - as Kolya starts to raise his shirt, the slightest touch to his belly almost-tickling in a way. One hand is untucking his shirt, sliding fingers under to find his back, the other gripping Kolya's hip - partly to keep him from falling, partly because he really just wants to - when the door opens.

Rodney stays stock still, shocked into inaction, even as Kolya turns and... shoots. Rodney stares. That was... that was...

He just waits, half hiding under the commander, cheeks burning red.

Life is just not fair, and everyone seems out to make matters worse. In retrospect, though, Kolya realises that shooting the man may not have been the wisest idea.

It works, though - the intruding Genii stumbles back out of the room, slamming the door rather quickly, making quiet little noises that will no doubt get a lot louder once he's out of earshot.

At this point, Kolya realises that being on top of Rodney McKay with a gun is probably **not** a good thing to do. He hastily clicks the safety back on and tosses the weapon to the ground - still within reach, but out of the immediate picture.

"Something really ought to be done about the discipline in this place," he remarks, almost offhand. And then, more carefully, "I'm... sorry about that."

"The part where he came in or the part where you shot him?" Rodney asks, somewhat... frightened. Somewhat... more tense. Which, considering what just happened in the middle of what _was_ happening, is not entirely unexpected.

"Do you normally do that to people who don't knock?"

"I... am being overly cautious at the moment - for obvious reasons. As a result I appear to be overreacting."

Which is a remarkably honest admission, albeit brief.

"...and I can trust you won't... overreact to me, how?" Which is, bluntly put, part of the crux. Of everything. Trust. Which Rodney is not very good at doing.

At this, Kolya looks really quite... it's hard to tell, actually. His expression seems to be a mixture of hurt and something that might be self-hatred.

And what really hits him is the two answers that he won't give - answers he really doesn't want to think about - either '...you can't,' or, even worse, '...you already know you can't.'

Because he's finally accepting that this **isn't** what he wants to have to say. He wants to be able to look Rodney in the eyes and ask for his trust, and yet knows full-well he has no right to it.

"...All I can do is give you my word," he says, simply, knowing it isn't enough.

Though he can often be rather oblivious, Rodney isn't always. And when he is seeing things straight, it's usually very, very acute. Like Chaya. There had been something not-right about her that he'd seen from the start. And he can see some of this. Something not-right, even if he doesn't know what it is.

"Okay," he says, carefully. "But I'm... I don't want to have to see it happen, ever." Because if it did, it would prove his worry right, and no amount of promises in the world can make Rodney believe something he's seen otherwise. Not any more. 

"If something is wrong, you talk. No yelling or shooting. Talk."

Trying to ignore the fact that Rodney really sounds he's telling Kolya what to do - which is a road he **really** can't afford to go down right now - Kolya tries to manage some semblance of looking collected.

"I know it doesn't look like it, but what just happened... I was trying to protect you." And he knows that's a poor excuse, even if it is true in a way.

"Is... is this not... ah, a good idea?" Rodney asks, suddenly looking really worried. Because damnit, it's a good bad idea, if it's a bad idea. A nice one. One with interesting prospects. Finding out that it's a bad idea will really put a dampener on... things.

His brow creases in deep thought, hand absently rubbing Kolya's back slowly, soothingly - without really thinking much about it. "Because it's not exactly the... best idea where I come from. Not just the... but other things." 

And Rodney appears to have lost the ability to talk properly again. "If you're in difficulty, I could... I could convince E- Doctor Weir and Colonel Sheppard to... I don't know, let you stay or something. If you wanted to."

Even if it would be... really, really weird. And really, really difficult. And would freak a hell of a lot of people out if Rodney came back with Him asking if he could keep him.

"This is a good idea," Kolya replies, like he really means it. And he does. He wouldn't be taking all these risks if he thought otherwise. "Among my people, it is quite acceptable for two men to be together. What worries me is how they will react to me being with an Atlantean - hence why I don't want this broadcast just yet."

Rodney's offer stops him right in his tracks, though, causing a sudden disconnection between Kolya and reality that takes a few seconds to pass. Did the doctor actually just offer him _political asylum?!_

Rodney blushes rather an interesting shade of pink. "Right. Right. Okay."

"Look, just forget I said anything."

Kolya lays his hand against the side of Rodney's face, trailing his fingers down the doctor's cheek, trying to look reassuring - not a major life-skill he possesses. "We don't have to forget about it," he says. "Not if you don't want to."

Acastus Kolya. Returned from the Planet of the Dinosaurs. Never returned from Meaningful Conversation Territory.

This? Was again not what McKay was expecting. Weren't all the tales of prison behaviour and shower things always... well, different from this? Rather a lot? For a moment the confusion is blatant, Rodney's jaw going temporarily slack.

"It... well, I know a lot of people won't be very happy with me, even if I am still alive... But we could... see."

Which is Rodney speak for, -the fuck? And, -hwah? And, -yey! All at once. Although this is less obvious.

That seems a good enough answer to be going on with. And to stop the conversation becoming even more agonising, Kolya finally lets himself lean in once more, kissing Rodney firmly, hand slipping down his neck and across his shoulder.

Rodney probably shouldn't still be interested after Talks (with a distinct capital) and actual bodily harm (albeit not to his own person) but it's been a weird... forever. And it seems that things like this are just going to happen all the time. And you can either live with it, or get very, very lonely with only your shrink for company.

And damnit, Rodney's had a bad enough time recently. So ignoring all the little warning bells for once, he kisses back. And now, they really should do something about this clothing issue...

***

In retrospect, Kolya thinks, some time later, it's a wonder neither of them ended up falling out of the bed. These rooms weren't exactly designed for two. But yet, here they are, still a little tangled in each other, covered by the single blanket. Kolya lies on his side, watching Rodney carefully, and waiting for him to say something.

Something a little more coherent than his... most recent utterances.

"So," Rodney begins. It seems as good a word as any. But really he should add some more to the end. Like...

Er. "That was... well. You know. Of course you know. You were there. It would be hard if you hadn’t been there, but that isn’t the point." 

Funny how easily he can be embarrassed. Funny how he's somehow in this state of dishabille, almost snuggled against... _him_ , close enough to still feel the warmth and fine layer of sweat - both their sweat - between them. And be embarrassed. Now.

"Look. You better say something, because if you don't I'm just going to keep babbling because normally I have no idea what to do after... er... and I talk and make a fool of myself because I don't know when to... stop."

Kolya really isn't particularly good at conversations that don't begin with 'and now you will tell me everything.' But he realises he ought to make an effort in this situation, all things considered.

"What do you want me to say?" he asks. It really is as simple as that. Without prompting, he could lie here in calm silence for quite some time - a state of affairs he hasn't experienced in months.

"I don't know! Something. Something I don't have to bring up. Something you want to talk about - how do I know what you want and like, who you are, if you never speak for yourself and I direct all the conversation? I know I like to hear the sound of my own voice, and I know I'm talking sense most of the time, but... if I'm just talking to myself..." It gets so lonely.

"Just... talk, okay? To me. I want to listen sometimes, too."

There is silence for a moment, as Kolya appears to give this some thought. He just **isn't** used to talking about himself. And he's fairly convinced that Rodney wouldn't exactly enjoy much of what he might say.

"I ought to get some more combat training done later on," he remarks, as if idly - but in reality, far from it. "Otherwise, the rest of my squad is going to think I've been abducted by Wraith again."

That's... okay. Rodney can work with that. It's sort of a commonality. So why can't he think of anything to say?

"I had to do training before they let me come here. On the expedition. I hated it because it reminded me of gym." 

Also, the talking of being places that aren't here? Not with the helping. But Rodney tries not to look sad. He does.

And yet, Kolya can still see... something in Rodney's eyes, something like a pain he won't quite admit to. He reaches out, turning the doctor's head closer, thumb brushing along his chin.

"You look so... hurt," he says, rather quietly.

Very good at reading emotions, the commander is. Though this is not how he normally uses that skill.

Rodney's ashamed to be caught out when he's trying to hide it. Ashamed to let other people see him in weakness. It doesn't help. It just shows people they can hurt you, and they hurt you and despise you all the more.

He half-turns into the touch, half pulls back, chewing at his lip. Far, far too close. And anything he says now will be so much ammunition. It's frightening.

"You don't want to talk to me. It's okay. I understand. You don't want to let me know things." A slow, deep, sad sigh. Rodney trying to pull himself together, to avert the... disappointment. "I guess there isn't really much we have in common."

Something about that statement hits Kolya in a way he didn't quite expect, but this time, he responds faster.

"I want to talk to you," he insists. "I just... fear driving you away."

There. He said it. And as he does, that image comes to mind again - the Atlantis control room, windows battered by such a brutal storm... everything that happened. Everything he **did**. It might be helpful if he could claim it was all desperation, last resorts, plumbing the depths of possibility to achieve a result. But it wasn't. That is who he is, and every time he tries to say something, it links back to memories of that day.

He's sure the same effect must happen to Rodney. And if that is so... he can't work out why the doctor wants anything to do with him.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Rodney asks. "I live on a research base, a galaxy away from my home world. I spend most of my time running away from big giant aliens who suck your life out of you with their hand. And you never met my piano teacher. Compared to her, you're... you're someone's eclectic uncle who brings around noisy toys that require batteries to annoy their sister."

Again with the weird comparisons. But if the shoe works...

Rodney looks at him. Full-in-the-eye looks at him. Even though it's clear he's uncomfortable doing so. "Whatever this is, it's pointless if we're not honest. Well, it is from my point of view. And if this is just a case of relieving tension, then tell me and go. And if it isn't... then you're just going to have to talk, because you are who you are and if you're pretending to be something you aren't then it isn't you. And I don't want that either."

"That made more sense in my head..." he says, as an afterthought, with a finger-twirling gesture. "Look. I'm just having a rough... ever."

"This is not about relieving tension," Kolya replies at once. "I would not take all these risks over something trivial."

He pauses, about to say something else, and then - most unexpectedly - is suddenly smiling, an odd little look in his eye. "You're good," he remarks. "Do your colleagues realise you have this hidden ability to get people to admit things?"

Rodney opens his mouth to reply, then stops, then replays the last few moments of conversation. Oh.

"Actually, no. People generally just get aggravated with me or leave."

"A shame. You're unusually effective, if given time. Though I would call your approach somewhat odd."

For 'somewhat odd' read 'strangely non-violent.' Old habits die hard.

"And you're good at changing the subject," Rodney points out. 

Kolya gives him another little smile. "Directing conversations is a gift of mine, yes," he says, lightly.

Rodney's lips quirk just a little in return. The habit is damn annoying, but many people have things he dislikes about them. Actually, come to think, everybody does.

"Working with people doesn't interest me. Science does."

"The two are more similar than you might think - or so I've been led to believe. Science is not something I've had much to do with," - until I met you, of course - "but all of it involves a certain level of... trial and error."

"Well, to a degree. But science has an order. A pattern. A... music behind it. People are... more complex than just rhythms."

"They are, but they are also more order-bound than is often realised. The trick is learning to read that order through the swathe of background noise."

And yes, he is having this conversation.

"Then it's a language I don't speak," Rodney admits, eyes moving away. People are... people are confusing and strange and complicated and he always, somehow, manages to get them wrong. "Sometimes I think it would be better if people were like machines. But then I realise it's what we're not like machines makes us... us. Or something. I try not to think about it too much."

"Maybe you don't speak it, but part of you still has some... understanding of it." Kolya sounds quite insistent about this. "And if people were that mechanistic, it would remove something fundamental from interaction,” he goes on. “Prediction is one thing, but **knowing**... knowing would make things too easy."

"Well if I had no understanding, I wouldn't be able to do anything with other people, would I? I mean, it's like saying you don't know maths. Not everyone can do vectors and means, but everyone knows that if you add you get more. Machines aren't all that simple, either. Nor any science. It's just... that bit more abstract. The laws are nearer the surface."

"I think you understand people more than you admit - perhaps more than you want to admit. To use your analogy - you can work with vectors despite thinking all you can do is add." He pauses, to give this a second to sink in. "It is the depth in people which makes them interesting." Especially to Kolya. It's one of the things he finds so utterly fascinating about Rodney.

"I still manage some monumental errors, though." Like, oh... actually, too many to number. "Is that why you do what you do?"

"Yes. Partly, at least. Trying to understand people, with all their layers and facades, is an attractive challenge. And if that understanding can serve the Genii... so much the better."

Of course, that's not the whole picture, although it is true. Part of it is about power, about control. Plus, the man has some serious aggression issues.

Rodney nods. He can live with that. Can understand that, to a degree. Knowing the why often makes the what easier to bear.

"Can I see you train?" he asks, of a... nothingness, really. A sudden impulse, nothing more.

The question is somewhat unexpected, especially as Rodney has already had to watch Kolya beating up dinosaurs to the point where further interest seems a little odd. Nevertheless, he says, "I might be able to arrange it, yes."

"Thanks." Rodney pauses, still feeling slightly awkward - if a little less... worried. He reaches out a keyboard-worn fingertip, lightly touches it to Kolya's temple, tracing down.

"You'll want me to be... discrete." It's a question, but the tone hardly shows it.

"That... would be wise."

And it would. Not because Kolya is ashamed of this - he isn't. It still feels strange, yes, but also right in a very certain way. No - he needs to do what he can to protect Rodney. An... incident now could damage the entire plan, and with it, any chance of a resolution they could both live with.

"Okay." Rodney pauses. "I know what you do in front of other people isn't... you." Even though it will be strange, to lead a double life. "Just don't get too carried away."

At this, Kolya suddenly realises that Rodney really is seeing him in a way other people don't, and that is an odd feeling. He doesn't open up to people, not ever - not even Athos, in all fairness - and yet somehow, he actually has this time.

It's strange, to feel... known.

"You mean, don't beat anyone up too badly?" he says, with a self-aware smile.

"That, and don't overdo the not-liking me. No more than usual." But the answer is wry, and McKay’s own smile is lopsided and good natured enough in return. 

"I won't." He really won't. The opposite is far more likely.

Rodney nods. The promise is good enough for him. And there isn't much else Kolya can give but words and actions right now.

"How long do you think negotiations will take?"

At this, Kolya shakes his head a little. "I don't know. It all depends on so much - how your people react to the suggestion, how Cowan reacts to having to talk to them again. It will be difficult for everyone involved."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"I know. We just have to hope that they can see beyond everything that's happened."

And Kolya is aware of how hard that will be. It certainly isn't easy for him.

Rodney knows too. He still, despite it all, feels... a little weird. Lying here, talking with someone who... did all those things. To him. To his friends. He occasionally gets flashes of sense-memory, strewn in between the present. He doesn't jump, but it's there in his eyes.

Strange, how one little act, one kiss, changes everything from arguing, fighting, pushing and shoving to... this. 

It's ridiculous, really. That this should be what solves things for them. Changes things for them. That it has such an effect...

Oh, Kolya has memories, all right. He recalls everything that happened, all the things he did - and didn't do. He remembers **why** , too - but more than that, he believes in those reasons. In truth, he'd probably do a lot of the same things again, if he had to.

Even now.

Rodney props his head on his elbow, trying to get comfortable. "I'm glad I won't have to do that," he admits. "I've always hated internal politics."

"Oh yes. Internal politics can become quite irritatingly complex. And in such situations, it can be... difficult to be objective enough."

Lost in musing, Rodney simply nods. He can be quiet, when not too worried, not too haunted. He is, sometimes, capable of just... breathing. Being. Which is what he is now, in a contemplative mood. Because Kolya doesn't always want to talk - that much is clear. And, Rodney figures, once in a while he can indulge him.

As long as it doesn't become too much of a habit.

For a moment, Kolya lets the silence endure. He likes it. But he's thinking, all the time, lightly running a finger along Rodney's collarbone as he does, seemingly lost in the action.

Finally, appearing to snap back to reality, he meets Rodney's eyes again. "I should go," he says, although there's more than a little reluctance in that statement. "Before someone **else** comes looking for me."

Rodney's breathing grows level and calm, deep slow breaths as he gradually relaxes. Eyes drifting closed, just feeling. When he senses the shift in Kolya, he opens his eyes and watches his face, nodding lightly in agreement.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not that I know of, at least." So I'll still be here. "Don't forget to call," he says, with a slight hint of humour in his voice.

"Trust me, I won't," the commander promises.

Then, slowly, Kolya slips out of the bed, disentangling himself from Rodney, before trying to find his own clothes amidst the heap on the floor. At the bottom of said heap is his gun - currently missing two bullets.

Ah. In all honesty, that is something he really ought to go and deal with. Soon. Before Cowan thinks all this shooting of subordinates is turning into a regular hobby.

When he's dressed, he turns, leaning to kiss Rodney one last time. And then he departs, feeling fairly confident that the world on the other side of that door is not the one he left some time ago.

Helpfully, that is not as disconcerting a thought as he might once have believed.

Rodney doesn't move from the bed until Kolya is gone, preferring instead to hold the blanket close to himself, to bite his lip and watch. To watch as he dresses. Leaves.

After he's gone, he waits for a few minutes more without getting dressed, as though dressing will invalidate his memories, not wanting to cover skin with cloth. Eventually, though, the thoughts of people coming in (again) and finding him undressed win out, and he carefully pulls things back in much slower than they were taken off, fingers doing his best to rearrange his short hair. There are no marks where Kolya's touched him, he knows. But they still feel there, and he wishes there were some way to cover those up too.

And at the end, there's nothing to do but sit and wait - as he doubts anyone else will enter his cell so soon after the last time.

***

After leaving Rodney, Kolya has rather an eventful time. Realising that he really **ought** to deal with the trail of people he keeps sending to the infirmary, he heads up there, running into one of the doctors the moment he gets through the door.

The man gives him a Look, which says, quite plainly, _people like you do not make my job any easier._

Kolya, of course, returns said Look and raises him a distinct Glare, which says, even more plainly, _live with it, or join them._

At this, the Genii doctor gives in. "Can I help you, Commander?"

Kolya inquires as to the location of the third man he's sent up here - the only one Rodney knows about - and is pointed in the direction of a room down the corridor. On arriving, he reverts to textbook-impassive, but keeps his hostility to a minimum, as he asks the youngish soldier what, exactly, his message had been.

Something about Cowan wanting to see him again. Oh _good_. Deciding it might be wise to hurry up, he leaves the infirmary and goes straight back to meet with the Genii leader.

Cowan clearly has more on his mind than worrying about one of his commanders turning up late, and this time, they manage to have a conversation without Kolya resorting to any kind of violence.

It's a long conversation, though. Contact has been made with Atlantis - whose people were more than a little surprised by everything. Surprised, and sceptical.

Kolya doesn't blame them, really. He feels more or less the same way. But he's also rather glad to hear that, after what must have been a **very** unusual discussion between the Atlantean leaders, the proposed negotiations have been agreed to.

After leaving Cowan, Kolya returns to his own quarters, where he finally gets the first real sleep he's had since the night before he was captured by the Wraith - a sleep devoid of dreams, devoid of thought, devoid of all the concerns he's carrying right now.

When he wakes up, he finds himself lying in silence, staring at the ceiling - not something he usually does. This time, though, he needs more time to process the swathe of memories that hit him all at once; the events of the last few days finally forming into a timeline that he can consider, tracing each through, one by one, trying to see how this situation came about.

And all the while, he can still feel Rodney all over; can still remember every kiss, every touch, every sensation.

This is, without a doubt, the strangest thing that has ever happened to him. He's watching his entire worldview change as a result of a series of incredibly strange events - which are all, themselves, the result of nothing more than a simple order... _"We've been told that the Atlanteans are on Raikora. I want you to take your squad and find out why."_

Ironically enough... he never did.

Eventually, Kolya gets up, deciding that now would be a good time to arrange another training session... at which point, he remembers his promise to Rodney.

Well. It might be wise to pick his duelling partners carefully in this situation...

***

A short while later, his arrangements made, Kolya finally returns to the place where Rodney is being held, giving the guards nothing but a brief nod before he opens the door.

All he wants right now is to see Rodney again. And that makes the _I've heard about yesterday so please, really, don't find an excuse to shoot me_ looks he's getting from the new guards blend right into the background.

Mostly.

Rodney's been sitting with absolutely nothing to occupy him but a pad and a pen that he brow-beat out of one of his guards after the tedium simply got too much. And the guards were convinced no harm would fall upon them for opening the door. The pad, however, is considerably worse for wear by the time Kolya arrives. Half-finished strings of letters and numbers, doodled spirals and notes litter the page, and there's a fair number of balled up pieces in one corner. Possibly, if one looked, one might see the remains of a list on a few.

Bored. Bored, bored, bored please god get me out of here, is what the room says. What Rodney says, from the harassed way his clothing hangs and his hair sticks up in random places, having not had the benefit of mirror and comb, just a simple wash basin. All this time with nothing to think about but... him. Him. And Atlantis. And the dinosaurs. And... oh god, it really did all happen.

From the slightly darkened eyes, it's clear Rodney has not been sleeping as well as Kolya. Or shaving, for that matter. He stands up, when the door opens, but says nothing - looking to Kolya for a line on how to behave.

The commander knows what Genii prisons will do to a man. And even if he's got a lot of very unconventional orders in place where Rodney's concerned, the fact remains. At once, he makes a mental note to find some way to get the doctor out of here. Somehow.

For now, of course, he shuts the door. Always does.

"Good morning," he says, although the words feel hollow, and Rodney looks like he feels anything but good.

Before he speaks, there's the briefest moments of half-smiles that the doctor can't contain - nothing much, just an involuntary pressing of the lips, a nod. "Morning. Though how anyone has any sense of time under here..."

He turns the pad over, so the doodles don't show any more. "Is there... any news?"

"Our two sides are meeting," comes the reply, hinted even now with traces of disbelief. "Assuming nothing disastrous happens, I won't hear any more until Cowan returns later."

Kolya paces closer, hand raised to trail the back of two fingers down the side of Rodney's cheek. "Are you all right?" he asks - which is a blanket question to cover a lot of other ones he'd like to ask.

The physical contact is... strange. A nice kind of strange, but still strange. Rodney can still remember when it felt weird to be forever bumped into, clapped on the elbow, fingers brushing past his side to alert him to his team mates' presence. He'd gradually accustomed to that, too. The embarrassment of the sudden jump, the hesitancy over the slightest contact when handing things over that faded until he was hardly conscious of it all.

This, though, is deliberate. Considered. Judged. He feels the heat rise in his face again, as in just one moment everything that's gone before springs back to the forefront of his mind. "I... bored, mostly. Going out of my mind with the... sameness of it all," he admits. "Annoyed that your food is good but I never have enough. Oh, and the mattress isn't firm enough."

Probably not what Kolya wanted to know, but Rodney can be startlingly literal at times. "I can see why people go funny after too long in a place like this. Reminds me of high school."

And... he has nothing to say, nothing to ask. Because he doesn't know what. Instead, he just looks at Kolya again with an air of mild confusion. Chews on his bottom lip, though it's already sore from... well.

It's hard when something you've believed in your whole life is suddenly hurting someone you care about, but Kolya manages a very good job of approaching the issue levelly - on the outside, at least.

"I will do everything I can to find a way to get you out of here," he promises. "I can't give any guarantees. But I will try. For the time being... you mentioned an interest in seeing me train? That, at least, I have arranged."

There's a sudden look of gratitude in McKay’s eyes - and Rodney's learning tact, to some degree, as he just nods his thanks mutely. Possibly being around Kolya has quietened him a little, because normally he still wouldn't have stopped talking at all.

"Thanks. Right now, anything would be a blessing. Even watching paint dry."

The commander gives him a slightly bemused look. "What an odd expression," he remarks.

Then he gestures in the direction of the door. "Whilst we're moving through the complex, most people we encounter will likely believe I am escorting you somewhere - which is true, in a way - but if anyone challenges us, I will deal with it."

He means that to sound reassuring, but, in all honesty, it probably sounds more like a promise to shoot anyone who causes a problem.

Rodney blinks a few times, then nods. "Act the despairing little prisoner then?"

"Perhaps not quite so extreme. Just try to avoid looking... especially conspicuous."

He moves back to the door, opens it, and motions for the doctor to follow him, hoping that this isn't a monumentally bad idea.

"Right. Low key. Yes." Rodney's talking mostly to himself, hands wringing in front of him. But he follows, all the same.

The corridor outside is much like the room was - cool, dim and quiet. As soon as Rodney moves to follow Kolya, one of the guards immediately tries to give him a Look.

"I'll bring him back," Kolya promises, with more than a slight smirk.

This makes the guard back down without a word, leaving the way clear for the commander and the doctor to proceed. They follow a route Kolya knows all too well, passing intersections and various stairwells, not to mention a lot of doors.

Even if Rodney were trying to memorise the layout, for reasons of escape and intelligence gathering and so on, the corridor after corridor after corridor of grey on grey merges in his mind into one, long, three-dimensional Escher. It's like the SGC, except without the useless but cheery little lines all over the floor. And it hurts Rodney's brain.

Maybe it's like those rodent test centres, with mazes and cheese. Only, there are people in there instead of mice...

Rodney does his best not to look at anyone as he walks, keeping his eyes firmly on Kolya's back, staying strictly in pace of him. A little faster-paced than he would normally set, but no problem.

Thankfully, no one seems to be paying them much attention - which is good, because Kolya feels somewhat odd with Rodney trailing at his heels. Ironically, he feels he ought to be saying something - at the one point, of course, when doing so might not be entirely wise.

So he follows those well-walked corridors until they finally reach a door, not especially different from many of the others they've passed along the way. He opens it, leading the way into a wide open room, the floor marked by a large circle.

Two men are here already - evidently two of the commander's sparring partners. They're both around the same age, certainly younger than Kolya or Rodney, dressed in black workout clothing. As the door opens, they turn, only to look more than a little surprised to discover that Kolya is not alone.

Rodney immediately looks the room over, examining it for a place to stand. He stays just by the door, looking for direction in case he needs to be elsewhere - but as it's outside the circle and that's likely the arena and... he's overthinking it again.

Not speaking. Right. Rodney can do that. Really he can. Uncomfortable, he clasps his hands together in the small of his back, standing easy.

"...what is he doing here?" asks the taller of the two Genii, giving Rodney a rather odd look.

"Doctor McKay is here to observe our training session," Kolya tells them both, bluntly. "To witness what a Genii soldier is capable of. I trust that will not be a problem?"

"No, sir!" the Genii answers at once, snapping to attention.

"Good. Wait here." Kolya disappears into an ante-room, returning a moment later wearing the same style of black workout clothing as his men. Whilst he's gone, neither of them speak, though both take the opportunity to look Rodney up and down in a somewhat quizzical way, beginning to wonder if their commander has lost it again.

By the time Kolya returns, his two subordinates have acquired combat staves from the furthest corner, and Kolya collects one of his own before joining them in the central ring. As he does, he looks over at Rodney, checking that he seems all right.

And he makes a deliberate effort to address the other two Genii by name, just so Rodney has something other than 'the taller one and the shorter one' to go by.

"All right. Rokal, take the left, Valtain, take the right. Start with a standard pincer attack and then branch out."

At this point, there is a sudden outburst of stick-spinning, and a fairly impressive battle flares into life.

Rodney is not entirely a stranger to this mode of fighting - he's seen Teyla and the colonel in practice before. Oh, and Gabrielle and Xena, but that doesn't count because television fights are nothing like real life. 

He simply watches as the exercise unfolds, doing nothing to interfere - trying to follow the arc, rise and fall of the fight - the footwork, the tell-tale gestures before a movement, before a feint. It's like poetry, music, in a way. He can read it, even, to an extent, appreciate it - but it's something he knows he won't be able to recreate.

And through it all, he's watching Kolya. The other two - whatever their names are - are unimportant. People he does not know, and has no wish to know, either. He watches Kolya, trying to learn things from how he fights. Trying to see... something, anything here, in what he assumes is Kolya's natural habitat. 

Oh. And he also kind of likes seeing Kolya beat people with sticks, as long as they are not people he likes. Not that he'd admit to that in public.

When Kolya fights like this, he gets lost in it. That is precisely one reason why he always wants to be duelling whenever he's got things on his mind. For these few moments, there is nothing - nothing but space, and form, and targets.

There's a lot of passion in the way he moves, and yet, at the same time, an odd sense of detachment, as though everything really is instinct, not thought.

For a few minutes, everything continues apace and then, quite suddenly, Rokal - the taller one - misses a step, getting a sharp whack to the side before he can recover his footing, and crashing to the floor under the impact.

Valtain doesn't even blink. He clearly knows he can't; clearly knows he's got to keep fighting or end up joining his partner on the ground.

Rodney immediately ignores the man on the ground, too intent on watching the action. He tries to count the beat of the sticks, work out if there's an underlying rhythm... a bit like gunfire, really, which is always somewhat regulated by the workings. 

He paces around the outskirts of the room, walking sideways, trying to keep in the best view – at which point Rokal gets to his feet and walks right in front of him. You'd be surprised quite how rude an astrophysicist can be when annoyed. Or possibly, if you knew Rodney, you wouldn't.

Aside from a slight awareness of the room as a whole, Kolya is now concentrating completely on Valtain. He knows the man, perhaps better than he knows Rokal, and he's well aware that he hates being the last opponent standing.

Then he notices that Rokal is on his feet again - somewhat quicker than usual, in fact. If he didn't know better, he'd think the young Genii was deliberately showing off. Especially considering how close to Rodney he is.

With a slight inward smirk, Kolya wrong-foots Valtain, swinging around to aim for Rokal again, trying to throw them both off track.

The very mean, very unfair impulse to kick the damn Genii behind the knee for... well, just standing in front of him is very high. Rokal reminds Rodney of all those people who showed off in gym.

But that would be unfair. And also, the man has a stick, and Rodney does not. And even if Rodney did, he wouldn't know what to do with it. Instead, he lets himself be smug that Kolya will probably send him back on his backside again any minute.

If only there was popcorn...

Although Kolya doesn't actually know what Rodney is thinking, he's more than happy to oblige. With what looks rather like ease, he crashes one end of the six-foot stick into Rokal's back, sending the man straight to the floor again, before lashing out behind him to catch Valtain, who is using the opportunity as an attempt to catch him unawares. This does not work.

And now both of his opponents are down, looking more than a little annoyed, not to mention sore. Stepping back, Kolya relaxes a little. "Not bad," he remarks. "But both of you are dropping your guard too often."

"You looked impressive enough," Rodney tells the two men, in what he probably thinks is a helpful voice. But one he can't help but sound a little smug in.

"When do you start training?" he asks, suddenly. Because... he has a bad feeling that Kolya won't be saying recently.

Rokal gives Rodney a look that he's **clearly** picked up from Kolya, albeit one that's more reminiscent of what Kolya was like before the Planet. Valtain, on the other hand, opts to be obliging. "Usually at age seventeen," he says, levelly, dragging himself to his feet.

So. Instead of cars, Genii get sticks. Rodney is not surprised, He's still not sure of his place, though, so he looks at Kolya with a, ‘what now?’ expression. Which he's good at. Very.

Noticing the doctor looking at him, Kolya decides it might be wise to get matters moving again. He glances at Rokal and Valtain. "That will do for today."

Both men know the commander is not usually one to end training sessions early, but they're smart enough not to argue. They nod and retreat - Rokal throwing another one of his glares as he goes.

Kolya makes a mental note to beat the man into the floor next time they fight.

That was... brief. Rodney waits for them to leave, somewhat disappointed. He'll be back in the grey room, now.

"That's it?" he asks, puzzled.

The commander looks at him carefully. He knows he cut things off rather quickly - but in all honesty, he feels that option was preferable to the look he'd get from Rodney shortly after beating Rokal into the floor. Which he really rather wanted to do.

And maintains every intention **to** do. Later.

For now, he has a more acceptable response. "I thought, perhaps, that you might like to give it a try?"

Even if you didn't hear what Rodney's response to that was, you'd be able to guess it from the rather... interesting expression on his face. As it is, he forgets he's being polite again.

"Are you insane? I saw what you did to those two, and I've only just been stuck back together again from the last time!"

Kolya gives him what **seems** to be a lightly amused smile. There's a lot more to it than that, but he's not about to elaborate.

"I wouldn't be quite so... vigorous in your case."

He realises that might not sound as helpful or reassuring as he intended. But in all honesty, what he wants is to finally see Rodney fight, because he never has - not really. Kolya can tell a lot about a person by how they fight, and even if he already knows rather a lot about the doctor, the interest is there nonetheless.

"Define 'not quite so'? You’ll only break one of my kneecaps?"

Rodney’s reaction is rather... loud. And violent. And it's entirely possible something has just crept across his mind, and is being violently rejected. Entirely possible.

"I don't fight with sticks. I only really know guncraft and basic hand-to-hand."

Hmmm. That was an unusually firm reaction, even for Rodney. It might well have had a lesser man backing down. But not Acastus Kolya. Oh no.

"I have no intention of breaking any of you," he insists, although part of him is starting to see the many other levels this conversation might be taking up.

Rodney looks unconvinced, but at least a little... torn. Because. Because part of him, deep down, has always sort of wanted almost to be that kind of person. Well, not always **that** kind of person. Luke was a whiny Gary Stu and the only cool good guys were the Bonds and Joneses. But still, part of him always wanted to be... sort of what Colonel Sheppard is now.

However, there'd always been the somewhat minor impediment in the shape of a) a complete lack of skill and b) a complete lack of patience for anything he couldn't excel in immediately, if ever.

The sticks look... fun. In a way. Exciting. But also like they could easily bust his nose or his fingers. And Rodney is really rather attached to his fingers. Really a lot.

"I... haven't ever done this before." Part of him wants to cover his hide, make it seem trivial and unimportant and beneath him, so he doesn't look embarrassed by his lack of experience. But... he holds that off. Just.

And Kolya... understands. He remembers what it was like, back during his own training, when he couldn't do the things he now takes for granted. How could he ever forget the first time he was put in a room with someone and ordered to get information from them? That was... an experience, and it got him a Reputation overnight.

"I know. It's... You asked what I do. This is part of it. I merely offer you a chance to find out what it is like."

Rodney just stands for a moment, thinking.

It's going to be horrendously embarrassing. It's going to show his complete lack of co-ordination. How he thinks with his head more than his body. How he's terrible at following orders and impatient with himself. It's going to show him in a very, very bad light.

But then, Kolya's seen him under... torture. Under duress. Under a dinosaur, and under the sheets. But not with the dinosaur under the sheets. Of course.

And this? Is... a peace offering, of a kind. Or he assumes it is. If it isn't just Kolya humouring him - but even so, being humoured by Kolya is something he suspects not many people get anyway. He nods.

"Okay. But if you do break anything, I want you to know it'll count against you."

With a corresponding nod, Kolya turns, retrieving another of the combat staves from where it was left against the wall - by Valtain, no doubt. The man has always had a tendency to leave the thing lying around.

Offering the stick to Rodney, Kolya smiles a little. "Relax. I have been teaching people to do this for many years." And I rarely break them first time around.

Rarely. Rarely is a **start**.

"That's what I'm worried about," says Rodney, clutching the stick he's been given as though he thinks it's about to be taken away again.

Moving out into the centre of the room once more, Kolya gives his own stick a warming-up spin. Just that.

No, he's not showing off. Much.

"All right. Start by just getting a feel for it - the weight, the way it moves." The instruction sounds a little odd, he realises, but it's the only way to begin something like this. You can't fight until you understand what you're fighting **with**.

Rodney knows how to spin pens. Well, he doesn't, as he only does it when he's not thinking. But pens are different from six-foot sticks. And he is thinking.

So. Heft it. Move your hands up and down, tighten and slacken, attempt to know what you are doing. Wiggle it a little in what you hope is a convincingly smooth manner. Try not to hit your own foot.

Kolya watches Rodney for a moment, giving him time to get used to what he's doing. Eventually, he says, "Now, hold it here, and... here. Try to be aware of where the weight is located."

The weight is located all through the damn thing, Rodney thinks with a slight scowl, but does as he's told. For now. He feels ridiculous being taught like a... seventeen year old.

"Now?"

Detecting that sense of irritation coming from Rodney, Kolya decides to try something a little more... involved.

"Now? Try to hit me with it."

This may be a slightly unorthodox way to approach the whole matter, but then, this is hardly an orthodox situation.

Rodney looks at him. Really, really hard. He starts to move, but feints it, stands back. He doesn't like attacking. He certainly doesn't like initiating combat. It's all... wrong.

But then it's Kolya. And he's never going to manage to hurt Kolya, even if he wanted to. And.... he doesn't want Kolya to see him as weak. As pathetic. So he swings, with the top of the stick, aiming for Kolya's head.

Because Kolya is going to block. He is. Rodney isn't going to accidentally brain the man who saved his li... oh crap.

And there goes Rodney's anger way out the window.

The commander does block. Of course he does. He waits as long as possible, because part of this is about how one responds to actually being in a position to hit someone. At the last moment, though, he swings upwards, lightly knocking Rodney's attack out of the way.

"Not bad," he remarks. "This time, I'm going to try to hit you - slowly. Watch how I move and try to block."

Yes, this really is an unorthodox approach. But Kolya maintains that most combat is more instinct than pattern, anyway.

At which point, Rodney starts to back away, stick clutched in front of him in a death grip, looking eminently unhappy. This would have been a hell of a lot less confusing a week or two ago.

"Are you sure... this is a good idea?"

_"Rodney,"_ Kolya says, meaningfully - even more so when you consider that he has not yet called the doctor by his first name outside of the bed they spent some time in yesterday. Always very measured in how he uses peoples' names, the commander is.

"I am not going to hurt you."

He realises, even now, how hollow that must sound.

"You might not mean to, but I have an amazing ability to have horrendous luck." Really, really bad luck. He tries to pause, but is skittish and jumpy, trying to read signs he has no clue about. All the waiting is driving him mad.

Seeing no other way to prove what he's saying, Kolya goes ahead and takes a carefully measured swing in Rodney's direction - one that, to him at least, seems so utterly obvious that the doctor should have little trouble blocking it.

But he also does his best to keep the force behind the move to a bare minimum, with the intent to be able to stop himself should Rodney not react in time.

Rodney reacts all right, and gets his stick between Kolya's and himself... Which is one thing at least. But holding it in **that** grip is not the best of ideas. For one, it bloody hurts - and he yelps at that - and for two, he's left with very little power behind it.

But he stopped it. Which is something.

Stepping back, so Rodney doesn't have to maintain the rather awkward block, Kolya gives him an approving nod. "Good," he says. "Try holding it more like... **this**. You'll find it easier to respond."

Then he moves to strike again, aiming at chest-height rather than head-height, to give Rodney a chance to see the benefit of the alternative grip in blocking the second attack.

Well. It's easy enough to **say** hold it like this... but Rodney tries to mimic the grip anyway. And it seems almost as soon as he's settled that Kolya attacks once more, so Rodney hurriedly smacks into the movement again, all jump and tense. But, at least, doing what he's been told.

"...if I ever had to do this for real, people would be moving much faster and not giving me advice, though."

"That is true. But one has to start somewhere."

And sometimes, once they start, they just keep going, until life spends most of its time looking like a long line of alternative duels.

"Now, let's see if you can link a couple of moves. Try to hit me, and then be ready to block."

"I'm sure I'd much rather use a gun, actually," Rodney grumbles, but doesn't wait until he's finished to try a sweeping curve intended to knock Kolya off his feet, ready to hide behind either end of his stick on the rebound.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, Kolya's weapon of choice is a knife, though he refrains from saying so. Even in a conversational air, that really isn't something he wants to be mentioning to Rodney right about now.

The doctor's attack, though predictable, nevertheless appears at a notable speed, and Kolya raises his own stick to block it with slightly more force than before. He manages not to use quite as much of that energy in his response, though, aiming squarely so Rodney has a chance to predict his move.

There's a moment when Rodney almost goes the wrong way - but he quickly corrects himself. If this were a real fight, the hesitation would probably have been enough to be a big problem. But fortunately, it isn't a real fight. Or Rodney would be making much more panicky noises.

It's an inescapable fact that, attempting to be vaguely nice or not, Kolya really rather **likes** it when Rodney makes panicky noises. It's been more or less hardwired into his brain since they first met, and everything that's happened since hasn't exactly reduced the whole issue.

If this was a real first training session, he'd be a lot less random and a little less forgiving. He also wouldn't do what he does next - unless one of his trainees had **really** been asking for it.

And all of a sudden? He moves. One second, he's seemingly responding to Rodney's block, and the next, he shifts position with great speed, stick levelled in a smooth, sideways swipe to flick Rodney's legs out from under him.

After all the very deliberately pre-meditated, announced movements, Rodney certainly isn't expecting - well, maybe a little expecting - Kolya to move. And though Rodney's a bright boy, and though he's not entirely useless when it comes to physical things, the fact is he's easily flustered and panicked. And things like his not-entirely healed legs being pushed from under him is one of those things that makes him panicky.

He goes down quickly with a yelp, only just managing to break his fall and not his elbows, like he's been taught. And, to his credit, he doesn't let go of his stick.

But he is still floored, rather literally. And, if he had control over his mouth, he would be spitting fury right about now, but he's beyond words for the minute, and just glares, trying to cover up his sudden - rather real - fear.

Still somewhat ruled by his instincts, Kolya drops to one knee at Rodney's side, a hand on his chest to pin him to the ground. He doesn't appear particularly aggressive, just... firm. And perhaps more than anything, he's watching the doctor's reaction, almost as if he's testing different modes of behaviour.

Plus... he really **likes** pinning people to the floor.

There's more than the slightest bit of worry in Rodney's expression, worry he's not all that bothered about hiding. But it's a little more complicated than that. This isn't the kind of being flung down that comes prior to getting the shit kicked out of you. He should know. It isn't the fling down to make a point and look smug either. Or the 'I'm really annoyed with you so I'll show you what I can do to you if you annoy me' fling either.

For someone who doesn't like fighting, Rodney knows a fair amount about being pinned to the floor. Oh wait, the fact he can't fight probably explains that too.

So. It's... different. And.... sort of interesting. In a weird kind of way. Maybe. Sort of.

Rodney bites his bottom lip, and tries to push up, to sit up, to see just how badly Kolya wants him pinned. Because, he could be wrong. Or something. Maybe.

Kolya pushes back, intent on keeping Rodney where he is. Making eye-contact, he leans in closer, expression still somewhat... strange. And there's something about the way he's acting - almost as if he's silently daring Rodney to speak.

Fine. Kolya wants him still. If Rodney really, really wanted to get up, he could make a spirited attempt and probably wind up bruised and pinned in a less dignified fashion. But he doesn't entirely **want** to be up. Because... it's sort of reminiscent. Of. Things. And there's that look on Kolya's face, and the slight dampness of exertion, tickling at the edges of his hairline.

But just because he doesn't object to being pinned, and doesn't feel the need to get free is no reason to lie back and play dead. Nope. All the more reason to keep arching upwards, to make sure Kolya has to keep his weight on him to keep him down.

It seems almost wrong to break the silence, in a way, and when Rodney does speak the words sound... louder in the suddenly silent room. Too loud. "And this would be teaching me.... what?" No anger, no frustration. Teasing. Not something he lets many people see without a definite sense of his superiority to the other person being layered on in swathes. Just. Teasing.

At this, Kolya smirks more than a little. "To expect the unexpected," he replies. "And I wanted to see if you knew how to fall."

Besides, it also happens to be rather fun. Even if he is having a lot of bad thoughts all at once.

"I'm a scientist. The unexpected is more or less a given." He smirks back, clearly flirting now, if still... a little breathless. From the fling. Of course. Not... a thing. Fling.

Okay. Maybe both. "We just don't tell anybody." And after a pause, "Shouldn't we switch positions, so I know how to do that too?"

The commander is... warmly amused by the question. "I'm quite happy like this," he says, and all right, yes, he's well aware that he's flirting too. It's... strangely liberating, in a way.

He gives Rodney a _move-if-you-dare_ look, wondering if he actually will.

“You might be... but that puts me at a distinct disadvantage." And so Rodney bends one knee and tries to throw his weight to one side, wanting to roll them over.

In all honesty, Rodney has quite a bit of force behind his movement, but Kolya is ready for it. He catches his balance in time, using the momentum to pin the doctor even more firmly, now leaning in **really** close.

"So it does," he remarks, coolly.

Rodney lies very, very still, breathing in, breathing out. It's almost as though he's more aware of his body now, when he can't use it, than he was when he was actually attempting to. Which is... weirdly nice.

But then, everything about all of this is... weird. And not what it should be.

Like, that voice. And that expression. Which recalls so many memories Rodney hasn't wanted to engage with in a long time. And... new ones, too. Even his breathing sounds too-loud, now.

"So, what should I do?" he asks, trying not to look nervous. Because a part of him still is. Much less than there should be, though. Because, he guesses, the same way he liked powerful, intelligent women, he's going to like... powerful, intelligent men. Which is. Also. Unexpected. But... nice.

By way of an answer, Kolya decides the best thing to do is kiss Rodney again, really quite forcefully, whilst continuing to pin him down.

And yes, he's enjoying this far too much.

The chances were never very high that Rodney would do anything other than let him. More than let him. Kiss him back just as hard - and it's worrying how easy it's becoming. To kiss Kolya. He makes a low, pleased, anticipatory noise deep in his throat, without even realising it.

Far, far too easy. And too easy to squirm, too. Just a little. Just enough to show he's not entirely pliable. Oh, and because he's already discovered ‘movement’ equals ‘good.’ And he's a very quick study. Even if this isn't wormhole physics.

But he hasn't let go of his staff, yet. Oh no. And some deeply perverse part of him - the part that makes him say things he really shouldn't, and do things he really shouldn't, decides that now would be a good time to use said six-foot stick. Like, for instance, using it as leverage to try and roll them both over again, pushing off from the ground with one end.

Because. Well. Rodney's not entirely happy being quite that easily pushed around. Maybe.

Kolya is actually taken by surprise at this, and certainly isn't positioned well enough to resist the momentum before said momentum has its effect. The result is fairly easy to predict - both of them are suddenly rolled to the side, various _clunks_ sounding as assorted six-foot stick-ends come into contact with the floor.

So now **Kolya** is on his back, with Rodney half on top of him. He's somewhat impressed at the move, but, naturally, also somewhat annoyed at being caught even slightly off-guard. Nevertheless, he handles the situation with (what he hopes is) idle amusement.

"Interesting," he remarks, in an almost evaluatory tone. "And your next move?"

Ironically, the stick at his side is nicely positioned to be brought back up in a _very_ decisive way - albeit one that would cause the good doctor more than a little pain. Hence why Kolya doesn't do it.

Yet.

"Well, I have a few ideas," Rodney says, sliding the staff upwards till it rests just on Kolya's throat, tilting his chin back ever so slightly. He's fully aware that he has no real tactical advantage, now that he's used surprise. They are more or less matched for build, and he's horrendously behind in the experience department... in all senses of the word.

Really, it's just delaying the inevitable. But Rodney? Rodney likes being a pain in the backside. He likes kicking up a fuss. And... part of him needed to do this, somehow, to... show he wasn't entirely a walk-over. That and his rather... sizeable pride.

He keeps both hands on his staff, not pressing down enough to even be uncomfortable, just enough that there's awareness, really. He isn't using his weight to hold Kolya, either. As positions go, this one's really rather compromised. But that would only matter if winning were the only important thing. And... well. Rodney learnt long since he couldn't win in games like these.

So, instead, he chooses to take his weight onto his knees and straddle the other man, more than aware of his - ahem - staff. To cock his head to an angle, watching his face. There's no hostility in his expression. Curiosity, yes. Amusement, too. Maybe even wry fondness. Then he smiles, one side of his mouth tugging upwards. "...but I'm open to suggestion."

For a moment, Kolya regards Rodney with a look of... well. It's quite hard to say, actually. It might be continued amusement. It might be contemplative, somehow. Or it might be the look that, no pun intended, signals the calm before the storm.

As it turns out, all three are more or less accurate.

"Are you now?" the commander says, with a slight tip of the head. On the surface, it looks very much like he's mirroring Rodney's head-on-one-side pose. And he is. What he's also doing is moving just far enough away from the end of the good doctor's combat staff to allow for what he plans to do next.

Very suddenly, he brings his own stick back up, crashing it into the furthest end of the one Rodney is holding, aiming to make _that_ stick hit Rodney on the rebound. A second later, he plants his own stick on the ground again, simultaneously pushing back and throwing all his weight into rolling them sideways.

Rodney hadn't really planned much further ahead than making his point, of course, or he'd have done something more stable and permanent... or immediate, should it have been a real fight. Which it wasn't. Not in that sense. So he's prepared for the inevitable - Teyla and the colonel have done it often enough to him, and he knows how to roll, tucking in limbs and making sure no fingers are where they can be broken, arching his spine.

Which sounds rather impressive, it's true, but isn't really evident from the sudden blur of persons and sticks. The only real evidence is the lack of very loud cursing coming from an injured Rodney.

Instead, he lands with a light 'oof', still not entirely patched, still winded slightly by the manoeuvre. He lets his head fall back, even though baring his own throat makes him feel slightly nervous, and would in any company. He doesn't even try to disentangle himself from Kolya, but does keep his stick between them.

"Marks out of ten?"

Back on top, where - let's face it - he prefers being, Kolya smirks at Rodney's question. "Seven, at least," he says, somewhat graciously. "Maybe eight. You executed the move well, but didn't quite fortify your advantage enough."

And you interrupted me.

"Who's to say that it was the advantage?" Rodney retorts, glib. "I could have any number of ulterior motives."

"So you could..." Kolya replies, as if offhand. "But I can't comment on those until I see them, can I?"

It's almost as if he's now openly daring Rodney to try something else.

There are certain moves one instinctively knows. It's common sense, instinct... call it what you will. But, hardwired into even the most timid of geeks, there's a few tried and tested techniques. Rodney applies one. Well, a modified version of one.

Knees are really rather useful. He judges it as well as he can to be just the right side of painful, not aiming to incapacitate but... torment. Perhaps. In a nice way. Few people realise just quite how much of a bastard Rodney can really be - in non-verbal terms. 

He's still feeling small-animal-in-the-headlights lightheaded and shaky, this whole situation one he'd never really anticipated. Really, if he didn't know better, Rodney would swear blind Kolya was, in fact, a Klingon. A thought which amuses him so much he attempts his best cocky-in-the-face-of-danger-because-I-can’t-run-away face.

"Q'Pla."

Kolya would be spending more time giving Rodney the what-ARE-you-talking-about? expression, were he not reeling somewhat in pain. But he's used to being in rather violent fights, albeit a little different in style from this one, and he's had people trying to hurt him far more viciously in the past. Some even succeeded... briefly.

Even so, he can't help but respond exactly how he does - namely, once the initial surprise of being kneed like that has passed, the commander takes hold of the six-foot stick Rodney is still holding, yanks it firmly out of his grip, and tosses it aside.

Then he slams down, pinning Rodney rather more forcefully than before, one hand resting on the floor right beside his head, the other now back on his upper chest.

And this? Is far too enjoyable.

Possibly tormenting an evil, murderous, stick-wielding, gun-waving, Potentia-stealing, cool-coat-wearing, rather... rakishly interesting and amorous Genii in a big, dark room on his home planet was not the best idea Rodney McKay ever had. That or it was a **really** good idea. Really. Really good.

Even if he's now very unarmed, very trapped and very... much in Kolya's face. Or Kolya is in his.

Sense-memory kicks in, and he can almost hear the waves crashing underneath him, feel the water. Feel his fingers getting cold...

Really, really bad. And what's worse? Rodney isn't entirely sure that bad is, well, bad anymore. He smiles slightly, an inappropriate laugh catching in his throat. "Mercy?"

Oddly enough, in a moment that ought to have Kolya's mind racing to the past as much as Rodney's is, all the commander's thoughts are in the here-and-now. He feels... fairly incredible, actually - in-control-of-Atlantis incredible, although without the pressure. Or indeed, thinking about it at all. Because he isn't.

What he **is** thinking, mostly, has to do with a sudden realisation - namely, that Rodney appears to be coping with this rather well. Unexpectedly well, in fact, all things considered.

Slowly, he traces his hand up the doctor's chest, running it over his shoulder without reducing the pinning-down pressure. "That is not a request I commonly grant," he states, though there's a definite teasing edge to his voice.

Rodney never really learned much by the way of concealment. Every once in a while he could pull it off, mostly because the other ninety-nine percent of the time he's just that blatant. Like, now. Twitching, slightly, jumping at the contact. Since when was he that sensitive? When he was, oh, thirteen or something?

"...W-well, I'm... not common," he replies, suddenly aware that he's grabbed hold of whatever amount of black fabric is in his reach and is holding on for dear life.

"That is very true," Kolya agrees, tone offhand - a distinct 'but nevertheless...' seeming to hang unspoken right afterwards.

Somewhere, a little tiny part of Rodney’s brain is protesting, but much bigger parts of his brain are either telling it to shut the hell up, or concocting some half-baked excuse and rationale for wanting to be... well. Pinned. And. Things.

"No points for co-operation? Ingenuity?"

It's almost a shame Kolya doesn't know what's going on in Rodney's head, because he'd be smirking more broadly than ever if he did. Though the way things are progressing, he has reason enough to be **extraordinarily** pleased with himself.

And he deliberately doesn't answer the doctor's question, choosing to let it, too, hang in mid-air. Silence is golden... or, in this case, far too much fun.

Rodney attempts his most winning smile. It isn't, actually, his most winning. It looks like the smile of a man trying to smile through the middle of a lot more. But it isn't a false smile. Oh no.

"So... next lesson?"

Because Rodney is beginning to think if he gets any more tightly wound, he'll be bouncing off the walls. Again.

Suggesting an introduction to knives would be a **really** bad idea right now. Yes, Acastus, it WOULD. And he appears to be having an internal, first-name-terms discussion with himself. Which is not normal.

He's still blaming all lingering traces of madness on the dinosaurs. Well, mostly.

In the meantime, he decides it would be more than a little enjoyable to **keep** pinning Rodney to the floor. Because, yes, he can be quite a vindictive bastard when he's conscious.

"Eager to hurry away from this one?"

"I think I'm well versed in 'pinned to the floor by your opponent' now, but I might be wrong. Should I be wailing? I could be wailing. I’m not one taken to wailing, as a rule - and ignore whatever Zelenka says because anything that happens after three in the morning doesn't exist anyway...."

Babbling. Such a good way to pass time. Pass time you don't know what to do with, that is. Being immobilised tends to make Rodney edgy. He needs his hands for talking with.

"Wail as much as you like," Kolya says, in a very believable falsely-serious tone.

And yes. He ought to move. He really should. Really really.

Really.

Quite why Humans lick their lips when confronted with the difficult is just one more of those little things no one ever really understands. Also, this is kind of making Rodney’s hands hurt and his shoulders ache from all the... tension, actually.

"Help! Help! I'm allergic to Genii! I demand that someone reads my rights! Or brings me a pillow, at the very least. Because my back is really rather delicate and I need special support for it..." A pause. "What?"

Kolya did ask for it.

For this, Rodney gets a rather amused look, albeit one hinted with a little faux-exasperation. "Allergic to Genii?" the commander repeats. "If that is so... you may be done for."

He doesn't make reference to the remark about rights... on account of having somewhat alternative views where such things are (or, of course, are **not** ) concerned.

"I should be inoculated immediately. And given bed rest. And grapes. Though why people give you grapes when you're ill is stupid. I'd much prefer chocolates."

There are so many very, very bad things that could be said in response to this. Kolya manages to consider the better ones for a moment, before deciding on something a little less weird and a little more universal.

Though that depends on your point of view, of course, because his chosen response is to lean in and kiss Rodney again - although considering how close they've been, 'lean' seems something of an overstatement.

The kiss itself is almost bruising - brisk and firm without resorting to haste. It's the kiss of a man who knows **full-well** that he's got as much time as he wants.

Rodney's grip on Kolya's clothes tightens at that, and then all at once he... softens. Relaxes. Kolya isn't going to hurt him now. He's safe - for the time being, at least. His hands move up along arms, briefly stroke Kolya’s chest, then slide down his back, over territory soon becoming familiar. Which - well. Is odd, of course.

For the moment, he's perfectly happy to let the other man set the pace. Content to lie back under the onslaught, to revel in being the focus of such attention. Because, it is nice. Attention. Attention without having to fight even for recognition. This isn't forced, isn't something happening because there is no choice.

And Rodney? He rather likes being chosen. Though that's probably the understatement of the year.

Kolya is... well, certainly not in normal brainspace. Every time he does this - and it's getting to the point where the phrase 'every time' actually **means** something - he ends up wondering why Rodney wants anything to do with him. After all that they've been through... all he's done, and knowing that he'd do it all again if necessary... why is the doctor content to remain pinned to the floor with Kolya practically draped on top of him?

The answer to this isn't clear, but the _fact_ of it remains. Rodney looks **happy**. Which is something Kolya rarely gets to see in any case.

So he keeps up the kissing, until lack of oxygen overrules all else, and he's forced to pull back, to stare straight into Rodney's wide eyes, pausing for a second before he starts running lighter kisses along the side of the doctor's neck.

Eye-contact makes Rodney ever so slightly uncomfortable. Being stared at. He knows he gives away too much, and that anyone with any care to find out what he's thinking, if they know him at all well - which surprisingly few people did, until recently - they have only to look into his eyes and listen to what he's saying - which is often more literal than most people can believe is natural.

"Is... is this a good place?" he asks, genuinely concerned. Although he has no real love for the Genii populace as a whole, he'd really rather not see more people shot... well, ever, really. And especially not at times like this. Especially not.

The commander pulls back once more, looking at him again, expression so full of possibilities. "Yes," he replies, really rather firmly, tracing a finger down the side of Rodney's neck.

Of course, he wants to elaborate by adding that if anyone walks in on them this time, he will happily beat the hell out of whoever it is. Or shoot them. Though he realises this may not be the most tactful response, and manages to keep it to himself.

Actually watching people really get beaten up is much different from watching it on television. Especially if you have some first hand experience of it too. Rodney doesn't really want anything other than the kitsch, from-afar kind of violence, where the bruises come off in the shower.

His eyes shutter closed under Kolya's finger, and his breath catches when he replies. "Okay."

Even if it possibly isn't. But only a little. Such bad luck can't happen twice, can it? For one, people must have heard and learned to avoid Kolya right now. More so than usual. Surely.

Rodney's still more than a little unsure of how to proceed in situations like this due to a) only really having had experience with members of the opposite sex, and a limited knowledge thereof and b) only ever being on the floor like this with another male nearby in situations he'd really rather not dwell on much. Which is why, in a way, it's puzzling that he appears, as far as he can tell, to rather like it. Or something.

"So... is this teaching by example?" he asks, awkwardly rubbing Kolya's hip. It's much less simple when the interlocking bits aren't self-explanatory. Although with some ingenuity, and less skittishness, he could probably work things out.

Kolya can't help but like that little flicker in Rodney's voice as he speaks, the lingering shadow of fear echoing behind the words. Of course he can't help it. It's who he is.

And he wants to push the matter, wants to see just how far Rodney will go in different situations - not because he wants to hurt him, but simply because he's still trying to find limits. To understand what he can and can't do.

Not to mention the fact that he has some really interesting ideas in his head right now.

"This is not teaching, but... demonstrating."

"Right. Well. I'm a quick study. I can learn anything, really. Anything I read and see. Or hear. I've really got a rather impressive short term memory, and my long-term memory?"

Doesn't need lauding. Although he would. If he weren't so distracted. There's a way in which the nervousness wants to make his tongue run away with itself, but there's also a way that he just wants to watch, stunned, carried away by event after event after...

"So. I take it we are... following a program?"

"Oh no," Kolya replies, with more than a slight smirk. "I'd call this... spontaneous."

Not that the thought has never crossed his mind before. He just never expected anything to actually **happen**.

Right. That gets the wobbly smile of, I'm not entirely convinced. 

Because, damnit. One of them should be doing some form of.... guiding.

So Rodney takes matters into his own hands. Mouth. And bites Kolya on the jaw.

...not that he has any idea why. It just seemed like the thing to do.

The commander never said it wasn't **guided** spontaneity. Not at all. And he has every intention of being the one doing the guiding.

Though having said that, he finds Rodney's choice of response to be... pleasingly unusual, and makes a rather happy sound at the back of his throat in reply, head tilted a little.

Being pinned to a fighting-room floor does odd things to one's mind. The lack of pillows and headboards and sheets and... well, the normal things one expects is somewhat... liberating. That and Rodney doubts he could do anything that wouldn't be too lacking in gentleness, if the past is anything to judge by.

Kolya really is going to have to shave, though. Perhaps this is not the time to mention it. Not whilst he's dragging his tongue along the side of his face, anyway. Or when he's trying to kiss him, either.

Well, that's one thing he feels he's got the hang of. Mouth things are really rather self-explanatory, once the nervousness is over.

Apart from the shaving. Which definitely is going on a To-Do list.

Thankfully oblivious of Rodney's current line of thought, Kolya runs his non-pinning hand through the doctor's hair again, now holding his head still so he can kiss the man **exactly** how he wants.

So yes, he's possessive, overly controlling, and taking wild risks because they keep appearing in his mind.

And this is bad... how?

If Rodney was thinking, he would possibly be offended by the attempted control. But he isn't thinking much, other than how bloody uncomfortable it is lying on the floor without being able to move very much. 

Feeling ever so slightly more daring, now, and more than a little impatient, he puts his hand over the one Kolya has on his chest, and tries to move it. Because there are oh so many things hands are useful for, and gravity is doing a nice job in keeping him attached to the floor, and he wouldn't really want to run away at this moment in time anyway.

Next time, Rodney thinks, they need something bigger than his bed, but more comfortable than the floor. Not that they've planned anything so far, but he can add it to his mental checklist.

Kolya has... no intention of being moved, and he's about to make this fact clear when it dawns on him that maybe this is evidence of one of those limits he's been looking out for. Maybe he needs to be able to take a metaphorical step back.

And he is in unknown agreement with Rodney, in regard to what can be done with one's hands in a situation like this. In this case, consenting to take his off the good doctor's chest, Kolya slips his palm under Rodney's shirt, fingers trailing along his side.

It isn't so much a case of not wanting to be pinned as wanting other things more. On a cosmic scale, this rates somewhat higher. Like, US issue packeted chocolate dessert higher.

Kolya's fingers are warm from working, and so when Rodney jumps a little, it isn't from the temperature. Not really.

And Rodney has two hands free. One he slips behind Kolya's head, making sure the other man can't draw too far back. Rodney really doesn't want to be too alone right now.

Apart from the whole evil ninja almost-Matrix without the coat thing that is so very black and pretty, it is also, nicely, rather simple to be done with. Or be done with things like the waistband. Because, for some reason, it was made so that Rodney could comfortably put his hand underneath. Thoughtful of the tailor, really.

And when Rodney does **that** , Kolya arches at once, breath catching in his chest. His eyes flicker, though it's hard to know exactly which emotion is most prevalent in them. It might be delight. Triumph. Pleasure. Maybe even happiness.

It's been so long since he was happy. So long since life became nothing more than combat and duty and regret.

Still running one hand up Rodney's side - and half-lifting the doctor's shirt as he does so - he lowers his head again, kissing the other man's neck, teeth nipping at his skin.

Round about now is when Rodney, of course, starts feeling clumsy and ham-handed. Normally he would attempt to shrug off the feeling by asserting his knowledge and superiority, or - if he was feeling too pushed, and the barrier between brain and mouth was down - admit entirely to it. And then probably regret saying it, too.

Easier with your eyes closed, nose and lips catching briefly on Kolya's ear. Even though he won't be able to pretend he didn't say whatever it is he thinks he's going to say, because this close to Kolya's face there's very little he can not make blatantly obvious and undeniable.

Rodney is nervous. "Do you not think now would be a good time to talk matters, perhaps? Not _those_ matters, more like a general direction than a complete examination. Sometimes it helps just to make sure everyone is on the same page - or even in the right book - because otherwise things get confusing, like the time I thought that Russian woman was hitting on me, and it just turned out she had this twitch in her eye and it wasn't a come on, and she hit me when I... well I don't need to remember that..."

Oh dear. That was unmistakeably a Rodney McKay Nervous Ramble. It makes sense in a way. The last time they were together like this, neither of them seemed to be in anything like normal brainspace, reliant solely on... instinct. But now, well, there are some emotions that Kolya is good at detecting, and some you more or less cannot hide from him.

Nervousness, fear, concern... those he can read without trying. And he is certainly reading them _now_ , all of a sudden.

So Kolya pulls back, pausing, trying to keep his almost-thoughtful stare to a minimum - and also trying to work out exactly what Rodney just said, because **that** was a paragraph and a half.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, rather quietly.

As Kolya leans back, Rodney lets his hand slide from the other man's head to his shoulder, resting gently. 

"I... no!" he says, a little sharply. His cheeks are flushed, but quite honestly, it's just as likely to be from... well, heavy petting as anything. His fingers drum somewhat arhythmically on the Genii's hip.

"Uh. It's just that, I - well. You aren't my... typical type. Which is a redundancy but nevermind. I'm just trying to say that, well. This hasn't really cropped up before. I mean, the weirdest sex I ever had - apart from before when you decided to shoot someone - and I'm not saying weird in a pejorative sense, but in a different-from-the-ordinary. Apart from the shooting bit, which I could happily do without. Apart from that, the... strangest thing I've done was with this girl who was doing a course similar to mine in college and she had this weird... okay, I should possibly not tell you about that. She probably wouldn't want you to know, even if you're never going to see her and she's in a different galaxy..."

Uninterrupted, it's possible he could go on all week.

This time, Kolya takes more decisive action to halt Rodney's Very Long Paragraph - namely, he lays one hand lightly over the doctor's lips, maintaining eye-contact with him. "Shhh," he says. "I know this is still strange, and I..."

All right, deep breath, time to say it.

"...I need to know what I can and can't do. What will alarm you and what you can cope with. Because those kinds of limits are... not ones I usually have to observe."

Quite the opposite, in fact.

The finger does stop Rodney, because he knows he is rambling. A word stops half on his lips, and then he closes them.

Stares, at the comment. Nods, somewhat mutely. "Uh. I don't know. I mean, I don't know what's considered normal or not, or what you're even thinking of. You can... try. And if I don't like something, I can let you know. Because I really don't - know. Because I don't even know what you're thinking of."

Then he laughs, clearly still edgy. "Apparently kissing is fine, though. Oh, and floors."

Tricky, tricky, tricky. This is another reason why the commander avoids conversation.

"It's more that I... need to know you're happy with... this. Everything. That I'm not scaring you..." ...away.

Oh look, it's Meaningful Conversation Territory again. Only now he's chosen to go there, chosen to start saying some of the things he doesn't say. And it is Difficult, with a very distinct capital.

On the positive side, he's glad they're in agreement with regards to floors. Very much so.

“Well, as far as I can tell, I seem to be okay with it. I mean, I'm probably making a mess of it, my back is kind of cold and I'm wondering what we're going to do if we get too messy and how exactly we explain that..."

"You're not scaring me,” Rodney goes on. “Well, not really. You're still... you. Of course. Which is scary in itself. But..." I'm here, aren't I? "It's sort of nice scary. A bit. As long as you don't cut bits off me or hold me out of any more trees." He bites his lip. "This is... good. Just. I kind of... didn'treallydotoomuchofthissoIdon'treallyknowwhatI'mdoing, really."

"But, what you were doing was good," Rodney adds, with an enthusiastic nod. Then his voice drops, and it's all in the inflection. " _Really_ good."

He isn't doing too well at this, is he..?

So... Kolya is scary but that's a **good** thing? Well. That's probably a suitable balance, really. And it kind of explains a lot - if nothing else, why Rodney is still here, considering everything **else** that's happened. Including that incident in the tree. And... the one in Atlantis.

_Especially_ that one.

There's a very affectionate edge to his smile, now, as he runs a hand down the side of Rodney's cheek again. "We could always go... elsewhere." Because as much as he **likes** floors, Kolya also happens to have a room, which **no one** will be walking into without explicit permission. And which has plenty of both floor- and bed-space.

"That... that would be good," Rodney nods, somewhat vigorously. Keeps nodding. A bit too long.

Because while moving - even though moving is a bit... well. Unless they find something handy and large to carry, anyone seeing them will... notice things. But walking will give him time to think.

Like, what the hell is he doing, and why the hell is he still doing, and what on earth can he do now he appears to have jumped off the deep end and found himself - not dead.

Kolya nods once in reply, and starts shifting position. Which isn't easy, considering how tangled they've managed to get. And part of him is, of course, reluctant to move.

**Very** reluctant.

But he does, dragging himself to his feet, before offering a hand to Rodney, to help him up.

There's only a very momentary pause before Rodney takes his hand, making a fuss about getting up. About his knees. About... everything, really. Masking behaviour.

He doesn't let go of Kolya's hand immediately, just a slight pause, and then he's pulling his shirt down from where it had wrinkled up. With some help.

"Right..."

"Follow me," Kolya says, starting to move back towards the door, trying to return to some kind of businesslike expression so as to look slightly less obvious.

People are going to find out. Soon, if not already. And he's going to have to tell Cowan.

Hopefully, these thoughts will be out of his head by the time they arrive at their destination. Because then said thoughts will be even more in the way than they currently are.

Rodney nods, then tries to look deferential. Or, at least, subdued. Because bouncing down corridors isn't really a good idea, right now. That and he's really rather apprehensive about where Kolya is taking him. He knows what is likely, of course, but he also knows all of this... hasn't been likely. And, for some reason, Rodney's never pictured Kolya having a place at all. Never really thought about it, of course. Just left it in that corner of confusion that surrounded Kolya in any other context than ones involving knives, sticks and guns. People who wave knives, sticks and guns seem like they shouldn't eat and sleep and relax like normal people. Because, if they do, then... normal people become more frightening.

He really, really wants to speak. To babble. To ask for reassurance. He's almost certain he's gone insane and this is all some very, very weird dream his psyche has thrown up in a pain-fuelled hysteria, that he's back on the Planet of the Dinosaurs, or in the medical rooms back on Atlantis. Everything feels... out of joint.

And he can't even talk about the weather. Because they are underground. Or the food, because it doesn't bear thinking about. So he laughs, once, instead.

And they're back in the grey corridors again, where everything is oddly silent. It's usually like this, but somehow it feels more noticeable now. Offhand, Kolya finds himself wondering what time it is, having lost track somewhat whilst... otherwise occupied.

For ironic reasons, he wants to say something too, but, like before, knows that this is not the best place to do so. Really. Walking around with Rodney McKay in tow is one thing, but having some sort of conversation with him, even a seemingly idle and innocuous one, would be monumentally Unwise.

Plus he's starting to realise, from that odd, quiet edginess that Rodney is displaying, that they might need to have a fairly careful Conversation.

Oh dear. None of those capital letters sound good.

Follow, follow, follow. Always in tow, the McKay is. Following people around when out of his lab, having them follow him when he is there. Even following the colonel makes him restless, and that when the following is for his own good too.

Words die on his lips, caught and changed into quiet sighs as each... feeling, really, bubbles up and leaves itself unvoiced.

Rodney really hates these corridors. And he'll be only too glad to be done with them.

Though the doctor doesn't know it, Kolya is following a very careful and not entirely direct route which avoids certain specific locations. Places he particularly doesn't want to be right now - and places he knows they're at greater risk of running into someone who might do more than give a cursory nod and keep going.

Eventually - and not without a couple of tense moments when Kolya thinks one of the people passing them might say something - they arrive in a long corridor that is much like the others - except that this one has different doors. And it's slightly wider, maybe even a little brighter.

It might not scream 'residential block' to an outsider, but if you've lived here any length of time, it does. And all the doors are numbered, long sequences running off into the distance, odd numbers to the left, even to the right. Kolya heads part-way down, to a door numbered '1603,' where he stops. Pulls out a simple black keycard. Swipes it.

Takes a deep breath. And opens the door.

They say you can tell a lot about a person from their own personal space. That is certainly true here, although it works the other way around, too. The room itself is much like one would expect from even a passing knowledge of what Kolya is like - predominately khaki and grey, very ordered, very military. Though not quite as neutral as such a passing knowledge might imply.

And then, of course, there's the weaponry. Because the man certainly appears to like having it around. A number of guns and bladed weapons line the back wall, and a pair of combat staves hang crossed on the wall above the rather large double bed.

Well. He is fairly important, all things considered.

But there are other little things too - a shelf of books, for instance, one of which still lies open on the desk. The fact that his gun - still two bullets down - is lying on top of it might alter the effect, however.

Kolya lets Rodney in after him, then shuts the door. Pauses. Doesn't say anything.

Rodney is, for once, actually trying to remember all those unspoken rules of what you do and do not do. Normally, he just does what he wants. But he... wants to make a good impression, perhaps. He doesn't even flinch all that much when the door is shut behind him.

Well. It's... a room. You can say that for it. It's certainly a room. The four walls, ceiling, floor and door mark it down for that. Oh, and the fact that it is joined to other rooms, and not, say, on tyres or caterpillar tracks or...

Yes. Well.

Weapons. Books. Beds. All very well and good, but Rodney can't help but feel distinctly... sorry for someone who doesn't have a picture of a cat on their wall, or a photograph of himself in ridiculous holiday clothing being either burnt or frozen to death. Or a musical instrument. Or...

Hell. Even his room in Atlantis is more alive than this room. Although it's possible he's being unfair, and Kolya just really doesn't like anything but things designed for causing pain or keeping bookmarks in.

Panic sets in. 

"I... could really use a bathroom right now."

What else does one say to something like this, especially when one is fairly sure that a serious Conversation is on the horizon?

And all these capital letters are not helping. Kolya wonders, idly, if arranging a very long sequence of duels with his more adept sparring partners might do something to rectify the situation.

He doubts it.

So he points to the door at the back; obviously where you'd put a bathroom. "Through there," is all he says.

The urge to pace is starting to creep in, too. And that's never good.

Rodney nods and goes in. And sits down without lifting the lid to the toilet, but turning the tap on. Childish behaviour, learned a long time ago, when he needed to hide and his bedroom wouldn't do.

The urge to put his hands over his ears and scream very loudly is rising, though he doubts that it's a particular good idea, and what is left of his worn sanity forces his mouth shut.

However, stealing a few moments alone isn't really helping. He's supposed to calm down, relax, work out what to do or say and then waltz out back into the main room and...

...what, exactly?

If he was a different person, he would punch the mirror right now, shatter the glass and cut his fist to shreds. If he was a different person. If he wasn't Rodney McKay. If he wasn't Rodney McKay, he wouldn't be splashing cold water over his face, horrified by his own inability to deal with whatever it is he's supposed to be dealing with. Which makes him angry. Which makes him angry, and with nothing to do but slam open the door and...

...fail entirely to blame everything that is wrong in his life on Kolya. Damn. If only he was self-righteous enough.

Stays of executions only ever delay the inevitable.

Whilst Rodney is gone, Kolya... paces. He can't help it. It's something he tries not to do when people are around, because the action is so telling, but now, the urge is simply too much. The moment alone, however, does give him time to think - albeit thoughts he doesn't really want to be dwelling on.

They go something like this: _We need to Talk. And we need to Talk because I don't know how best to behave around you. I don't know how much to say, how much to ask you. I fear driving you away, fear bringing back too many memories, fear reminding both of us of how close to the edge - literally and metaphorically - we have been._

_I fear that if you really understand me... you won't want anything to do with me. You'll just see that I am the same person I've been from the start, that I still think the same way. That I still believe in both what I've done and what I do._

_I never have to tell people what **I** feel. And now, the one time that I genuinely need to... I seem unable to do so. How can I say what you are to me? You brought the world into focus, helped me finally move beyond all the memories of Atlantis, of Dagan, of... all of it._

_When you look at me... sometimes I feel as though you're actually seeing me. As though you're thinking of me as someone other than the sum total of what I do. Athos couldn't. Athos didn't. He worked with me for years, but that made no difference. And yet you... you're still here._

_Why are you still here?_

Ironic, isn't it, that the self-styled Expert on the Human Condition can be so thrown by something as seemingly small as this?

At which point, the door bursts open again, and there's Rodney looking... not good. Kolya stares at him for the briefest instant, and then forces himself to take the first step.

"Say it. Whatever you're thinking, or worrying, say it. Whatever I'm not telling you, ask me. Please."

Pay attention world, because Acastus Kolya just gave his (admittedly short) I'll Tell You Everything speech. Deep down, he hopes the intense irony of that isn't lost.

Which completely throws Rodney off his guard, because he spent god knows how many hours on that horrible planet doing _just that_. He laughs. It's the laugh of a person who just found out that cheese is, in fact, flammable and purple.

"I... Okay, this is just strange. All of this," he says, waving very emphatically with his hands. "You… you... you're you, and then you suddenly stop and... and I've been trying to talk to you but I don't know how, because every time I try, you just... don't. And I know I normally don't know what to say to people, but they normally just smile and nod and it's fine and we don't have to go into how I'm completely missing something because that would be impolite."

Stop. Breathe.

Hand-wring.

"I... have absolutely no clue what I'm doing. I mean, I know in _theory_ but that's a completely different manner. And I don't know if I'm failing to do something I should be doing or doing something wrong because I don't know what... what Genii do! For all I know I could be breaking taboos or something and missing several important cultural... cultures! Things."

Way to go with the language thing. "I don't know what you want from me and I don't even know... there's lots of things I don't know. And I don't know what to say, because I could say something weird or strange - like I probably am doing now - because... you don't talk."

At which point, Rodney sits down heavily on the end of the bed, avoiding Kolya's eyes. "I'm just... really not very good at this, am I." Statement. Not question.

Kolya... listens. He always listens, but this time he's **really** listening, trying to make sure that he gets every last word. And he doesn't interrupt, even though there's things he could say, choosing to let the Really Long Paragraphs run their course.

Eventually, he sits on the bed beside Rodney, arms on his knees, staring at the floor. Time to say some of the things he was just thinking of... Though actually putting them into words? Much harder.

"I... am not used to talking," he states. "At least, not to the kind of emotional depth that is needed here. I... have always perceived it as dangerous. I know the risks in giving away too much, and I cannot help being... careful."

He pauses. Breathes. Runs all that through in his mind again.

"You are not doing anything wrong. Not at all. I know this is... impossibly difficult, and I know I am not making it any easier. And I... look. If there's something you need me to say, tell me. Clearly. Exactly what it is. Otherwise, I will just continue to hold things back, because I can't seem to do anything else."

Another pause. Longer, this time, though still relatively short. Time for the most important part.

"I don't want anything from you. I just... want you."

Rodney has no business feeling anything for somebody who threatened him and Elizabeth, tried to kill his best friend, pushed him around, had him tortured, ignored him when all he needed was a little comfort. No business.

Except, he can't help but see John Sheppard in Acastus Kolya. The colonel made some horrendously stupid mistakes, and wasn't averse to doing what was necessary. And Rodney himself has... even shot Aiden Ford.

"It's okay. I... there isn't really anything you need to say." He pats Kolya's knee awkwardly. "I... well I talk and I talk but I never really let... people know. Relationship disability is sort of part of the McKay make-up."

He licks his lips again, suddenly very aware - of everything. For a moment, he tries to see himself through Kolya's eyes - and, okay, the picture isn't quite what he'd like.

"I think I'm just nervous because... I don't really know what I'm doing. I don't tend to make attachments because something always goes wrong and people can't put up with me anyway. And I don't know what... what is going to happen with us. And I really don't want to hear what people will say." A frown. "But... this is good. Better than good. I mean, there's things about you I don't like, of course, but there is in everyone. And... and I wouldn't want to see anything bad happen to you."

McKay avoidance speech. Where you can tell that he really is affected, because he can't actually admit it.

"I... wouldn't mind seeing what _could_ happen. Uh. I guess I'm open to suggestions here, because most of mine include locking the door and only ever leaving for meals... at least until I can go home."

For a moment, Kolya pauses. Thinks. Tries to take all this in.

"I... understand what you're saying. Perhaps more than you realise. And as for this - for... us - I know people are going to realise what is happening. I think the best plan of action is for me to talk to Cowan, and soon. If I can make him see reason-" -is this rational? Or is it wholly **ir** rational?- "-it would definitely make matters easier."

He pauses again, before turning sideways to look at Rodney, expression... complicated. "Do you see any future in this?" he asks, suddenly, the flicker in his eyes betraying how desperate he's been to speak this very question. "Is it just something to pass the time whilst you're here, a way to give me incentive to push the negotiations forward, or... something you can see continuing..?"

There's pain in his voice. Real, genuine pain, and even knowing it's detectable there is worrying enough. He tries to focus. Pauses again. Mentally runs through katas in his head, because they are calming.

But Rodney has just said this was good. 'Better than good.' Surely that means..?

"I want... to be with you, whilst you're here. And if the negotiations work out, I want to know that... when you leave... you might come back."

Rodney's brow creases in thought. Deep, deep thought. Eventually, he nods. "Yes. You should talk to Cowan. Not that I know what you can say, or whatever. But... there's at least one person who knows about us already, and if this place is anything like Atlantis, half of the Genii on the planet know by now."

"...it's not like you can get into trouble for... relations with me, anyway, is it? And I'm already a prisoner of war - or temporary guest of diplomatic manoeuvres anyway. What are they going to do? Take away my chair privileges?"

But those kind of questions make him uncomfortable. And he looks away, at the door, the wall, the books, his feet - anything in a reasonable radius. He doesn't move his hand from Kolya's leg, but he's sure he's sweating like mad and probably dampening Kolya's trousers.

"...I can see how coming to see me in Atlantis might be less than a wonderful idea - at least not while Colonel Sheppard is around. Or Elizabeth." Pause. "Or Carson or Teyla." Pause. "No, really not a good idea. Not right now, anyway."

Rodney is most studiously Not Looking at anything that could in the slightest be referred to as 'Kolya', not even the space above his shoulder. Nope.

"I've been... thinking about that. And, while I understand you won't want to leave your people, I won't either. But that isn't a reason our people can't... work together. From time to time. And if we're exchanging information..."

Then Rodney bottles it again, turns to look him in the face, though his gaze is unsure. "This is probably one of those ideas that is best classed as 'extremely interesting' and therefore, highly dangerous. But I'm living in a world of life-sucking aliens and Kavanagh. So I guess I have more of a taste for the dangerous than I used to think."

"So long as Cowan does not believe I've been compromised, then no, I don't think he will do anything to stop this. Not if I convince him that there are benefits far outweighing any risks."

Another pause, whilst Kolya forces himself to keep looking in Rodney's direction, so that eye-contact is possible whenever Rodney is looking the same way. Which doesn't seem to be often, but it's the **principle** of the thing.

"Your people... will not see beyond what has happened in the past, where I am concerned. I don't blame them for that. I'm certainly not sure I will respond much differently - at least, not at first. But I... want to try. I need to try. Otherwise, I'll... lose you."

Oh dear. He's never coming back from Meaningful Conversation Territory, not after this. Talking about his feelings and giving so much away, and... it's amazing what long-reaching impacts one little kiss can have.

And finally, they make eye-contact again. Kolya always finds things so much easier when he knows that link exists. "I have to agree with you on the 'extremely interesting' remark," he says, with the slightest smile. "And yes, maybe it is dangerous. But I don't think I care."

He deals with danger on a regular basis, too. Though not, admittedly, like this.

"Compromised?" That makes Rodney laugh one of his little panicky laughs. Because it is amusing, that he should be a dangerous chink in Acastus Kolya's work. Although, fairly obvious how.

"Elizabeth is a diplomat and Colonel Sheppard must be used to allies and enemies changing status by the day." He purses his lips slightly. "And if they won't listen to reason..." he shrugs, half playing-out the conversations he's going to have to have with _them_.

Nervously, as though he's convinced one wrong move and the ceiling will collapse on their heads, the doctor twists slightly, to better face him. His free hand he moves to the side of Kolya's face - not pressure, but a simple physical request that Kolya not turn his head away. Then, with his own head cocked slightly, he brushes his lips over the other man's. Not because he thinks Kolya might turn away, but because he likes this teasing insubstantiality. 

"Have we said what we need to?" he asks, his nose brushing Kolya's cheek as he talks, too-close not to.

Kolya lets Rodney kiss him, so utterly glad that the doctor appears to still want to. Slowly, he lays one of his own hands lightly on Rodney's upper arm, craving the contact, pulling them a little closer.

"Yes," he half-whispers, eyes flickering closed.

He's fairly confident he's said far too much... but it seemed to be the only way.

The not-knowing what to _physically_ do is still... a problem. But not an insurmountable one. Because so far, Kolya hasn't complained. And so far, Rodney's not had reason to complain either. So. 

Keyboard-worn fingers stroke behind Kolya's ear, over his jaw - and it isn't that different from fooling around with a person of feminine persuasion. Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth - all familiar territory. All... actually, it's odd that people would want to kiss at all, really. But it feels nice and generations of people have done it and Rodney sees no real reason to stop. Except for air.

Still worried, but trying not to show it, he slides his other hand up Kolya's leg - something he must have seen a hundred times in films - even tried once or twice, with varying success. No skirt, but that's alright. Kolya would look really silly in a skirt. Some men are born for drag, and he just isn't one of them.

And he did not just have that thought. Not at all.

Now **that's** a rather interesting touch - though not, it must be said, an unpleasant one. But even as Rodney does it, Kolya can sense the worry behind his movements - behind his eyes, when they're visible - and it's something he really feels ought to be dealt with, even if past events demonstrate quite fully that Kolya **likes** it when Rodney is nervous. Which he does, of course. Though he's smart enough to know that this, on its own, is by no means a basis for anything designed to last.

As one might expect, though, his chosen method of approaching the problem is predictably... Kolya-esque.

Whilst still engaged in the oddly light and ponderous kissing - something else he finds he likes - Kolya slowly runs the hand he has on Rodney's upper arm higher, along the doctor's shoulder, stroking at the base of his neck for a second before letting his palm drift onto Rodney's chest.

Then, in what he genuinely hopes is a gentle action, he slowly pushes the other man back onto the bed, shifting position so as to come to rest at his side, looking down at him somewhat.

And, all right, yes, he really quite likes doing **that** , too.

"Relax," he says, quietly, hand moving from chest to neck again, a rather fond smile toying at his lips.

The touch is nice. Very nice. Made all the better by it having been so long. By not expecting it of him, not in a million years. Rodney leans into it, moves to encourage it and prolong it, unable to stop the slight shiver as it almost-tickles. He doesn't comply immediately - he is, by nature, stubborn after all - but after a short, sharp breath he lies back. In a way, lying down slowly is more terrifying than being flung to the floor all of a sudden. It takes longer; more time to still want to, more chance to refuse. It's almost like sitting in a dentist’s chair. The slow, gradual movement down so much more terrifying than a sudden jolt.

And then. He's lying on Kolya's bed. And Kolya's there. And it's oh so very strange, but oddly, Rodney kind of likes the oddness.

He keeps his hand resting on Kolya's neck, thumb rubbing over his throat. He can feel his ears burning, his cheeks hot and red, though everything else feels sort of dizzy. His other hand rubs at Kolya's stomach, not entirely knowing what to do. And then, when Kolya says that, Rodney laughs all of a sudden.

"You know, as soon as someone says that I automatically tense. It's the stupidest thing ever to say to someone, because then they worry about why they have to relax and what's so awful or painful that they have to relax and I used to hate it because my doctor was always telling me to, but it's like telling someone to think of nothing so they can fall asleep but then you start thinking about how you can _think_ of nothing..."

Of course, when Kolya **normally** makes use of the word 'relax,' what he means is, 'take a deep breath and **then** tell me everything.' But now, he genuinely wants Rodney to be calm, to feel, well... safe.

And then comes another Very Long Paragraph, which is simple proof that Rodney McKay does **not** feel calm, safe or relaxed. Though Kolya is getting better at dealing with these Paragraphs, and as such he does not feel too concerned by this one.

He lifts his hand from the doctor's neck, laying two fingers over Rodney's lips to halt the tumble of words. "I'm not demanding that you become calm on cue," he says, voice still quiet. "I merely want you to know that you don't have to worry."

Rodney's eyes widen, but he does close his lips at that, nodding in understanding. Not that understanding is the same thing as practicing, but it is one step along the path.

"Right. Right. Not worrying." 

And he's lying. Lying without curling up or covering himself with his own arms. Or babbling - all the time.

A deep breath, eyes closed. Then, looking up, "Okay. I'm... this is good."

Kolya is not entirely convinced, of course, but chooses not to mention it. Instead, he leans in again, kissing Rodney oh-so-lightly, hand running slowly down over his chest and stomach, fingers trailing against the fabric of his clothing.

Then he slips his hand under, slowly raising the doctor's shirt, palm brushing over his skin. And he can sense so much now - the warmth beneath his fingertips, the slow rise and fall of Rodney's chest with every breath, the rhythm of his heartbeat.

It's intoxicating, in a way, this feeling of closeness, reality... possession.

"You can... I'm not going to break, you know. I'm not all that delicate," Rodney manages to say, with only the slightest hint of a tremor to his voice. The light touch tickles at first, before he gets used to it.

His own hands are still a problem, though, and they fuss with all the nervous tension he'd normally reserve for his mouth. He grabs Kolya's elbow to feel it flexing as Kolya's hand touches him. It's just plain strange being in this position. 

"...don't mean to sound pushy at all, but wouldn't now be a good time to be less clothed? Not that I dislike clothing. Some types, yes, but it's usually more the detergent. But in this, clothing is kind of a bad idea. Or a good one. But a difficult one, anyway."

The nervous tension is starting to become more obvious again. Kolya wonders, especially due to what Rodney is saying, if he ought to be a little more direct. Though he wasn't being deliberately indirect, merely... thoughtful. In a way.

Well. He's tried indirect, and indirect appears to come across as not decisive enough for Rodney's taste or comfort. So maybe a more direct approach is called for.

Hand on Rodney's shoulder again, he pulls them both back up into a sitting position, laying a firm but brisk kiss on the doctor's lips before moving to remove his boots and socks, gesturing for Rodney to do the same.

Because not all **Kolya's** plans involve footwear.

When this is done, he pulls Rodney back again, now getting him to move up the bed so they can lie closer to the head instead of half-draped over the far end. Then he leans in for another kiss, hand now tugging the doctor's shirt up in a move-so-I-can-pull-this-off kind of way.

The Genii had thoughtfully given Rodney new footwear, since his own had been in rather a poor state of disrepair upon arrival. What they hadn't done, however, was break the bastards in. As such, Rodney is happy twice over to get rid of them. Though on one level he mourns his old boots. They were good boots, and hardly ever had him hopping in pain any more. But things change sometimes, and you need a new pair. And the socks were itching him anyway.

Having a definite goal in view helps settle Rodney rather a lot. Once he knows what he has to do, it's so much easier. He can perform tasks and then congratulate himself on managing them. Much. Much better.

The shirt Rodney has no feelings for any which way, so he doesn't regret losing that either. Although he does want Kolya to do the same. It's only fair, after all.

Kolya has no intention of doing anything else, and as such moves to tug off his own shirt as soon as Rodney's is out of the way. Oddly, he's suddenly more aware of the scar on his shoulder this time, but the thought gets kicked aside. He's not dwelling on that now. They've done enough Serious Introspection to last quite long enough.

Besides, the sensation of feeling his skin against Rodney's is one he wants to savour. It happens to be something Kolya really does like; the complete awareness of being close to someone, of breathing with them, experiencing with them.

Staying with the direct approach, Kolya now briskly climbs onto Rodney, straddling him. His hands find the doctor's, pinning them at head-height, and leaning in so that their eyes are mere inches apart.

Rodney knows Kolya is marked there, even though he hasn't seen - or even thought about it. It makes sense, of course, but it's just another thing Rodney's never really attributed to Kolya - the ability to be hurt too. Strange the way the mind compartmentalises to cope. His eyes linger in that direction briefly, although he chides himself and tries desperately not to look. And even though it makes his own arm ache in... some kind of bizarre sympathy that isn't even remotely amusing.

And then. Well. Yes. That kind of puts paid to any unwelcome attention in the wrong place. Funny, in almost all of the scenarios Rodney had been running through, this wasn't amongst them. Possibly because he didn't want to see what would happen if Kolya did... that.

"I take it now would be a bad time to discuss what side of the bed you prefer?"

Because that question makes about as much sense as everything else.

" **This** side," Kolya half-growls, not moving. They are, naturally, lying right down the middle of the bed, so the remark is either very vague, or very... demanding.

It's probably the latter. Kolya has never been one for 'vague.'

And that much is suddenly very evident as he closes the lingering gap between them, kissing Rodney with nigh-on bruising intensity, tongue tracing deep into his mouth.

Rodney had more or less figured as much, but been at a loss for anything else to say. What exactly were you supposed to say in bed like this? Please move your elbow a little, as it's digging into me? Would you be so kind as to do something obscene please? My, look, your underwear really brings out the colour of your eyes?

Kissing solves that, though. Because it's rather difficult to talk with a mouth full of someone else's tongue. Which he doesn't object to. Not in the slightest. In fact, he's rather approving of such things and makes a loud (if muffled) noise to signify this much. Because making Rodney completely silent is rather difficult.

His hands are pinned, yes, but it doesn't stop him wriggling, seemingly unable to stay completely still. He isn't moving with a view to getting free - more with a view to wriggling. If that. Oh, and maybe he wants to see how secure a grip on his hands Kolya has. For sake of scientific, detached curiosity. Of course.

Without even halting the kiss, Kolya throws his weight into holding Rodney in place, hands pressing the doctor's firmly into the pillows. The movement isn't violent, but it leaves little doubt as to what Kolya a) wants, and b) is going to get.

In the meantime, he concentrates on not needing to breathe, in order to prolong this for as long as possible, to drag it out until the moment they finally break apart - because that sound, as both of them finally draw sudden, eager breath, is really quite something.

But he doesn't pull back, doesn't release the pressure - quite the opposite, in fact. Still leaning in, Kolya meets Rodney's eyes again, realising that the words of the Critical Question are at his lips.

"Do you trust me?"

Rodney, for all his 'field' experience (which, though extensive, was often reluctantly strenuous at best, and happily strenuous only in times of great distress) has rather a limited capacity for not breathing. Which, if you were being rude, you might point out is somewhat strange when you consider just how damn loud and long the man can talk.

As it is, he isn't talking. He's being rather forcibly kissed. Which changes matters in some respects. And perhaps explains, if not excuses, quite why he's so breathless when the kiss finally _does_ break, and he's left dragging at his lower lip with his teeth, though he can still feel Kolya almost on them, like anything that's made such an impression, physical or otherwise.

He would, in a way, like to comply with the being still thing. To a degree. To the only degree Rodney McKay could ever agree to being still - in a very limited, singular occurrence. And, apart from the occasional involuntary little jumps, he does - relaxing even though his mind is still tense.

Rodney doesn't look down when Kolya stares him in the eyes. He closes them, the tip of his tongue poking out in thought, head moving slightly to internal dialogue. Then he opens them again. A sensible man would probably assent only with certain stipulations, or demand complicated definitions and boundaries and entirely fail to answer so bold and open a question as that. And if Rodney were in his right mind, he might very well point out that he didn't actually trust anyone - not even Elizabeth or Colonel Sheppard or himself, for that matter - not anyone did he trust entirely, implicitly, exhaustively.

However. There is a time and a place for everything, and fussy precision isn't really what he thinks Kolya is looking for. But still. The most he can grant is, "I'm here, aren't I?" Which is trust enough. Trust that Kolya is, in fact, working towards a peace with the people in Atlantis. Trust that, in fact, Kolya is not perpetrating this whole thing in a very, very twisted experiment into Rodney's psyche. Trust that, in fact, Kolya would not break any vitally important parts of him sparring, and that... well. Sleeping in the same room would not lead to one waking up (or not) with a knife in one's back. Or front.

"Just... Well you know you need to be careful. I mean, I'm fairly... loud. I mean I talk a lot. But that doesn't mean to say I'm... well. Necessarily not happy with something. Just that I need to talk." Because the last thing he needs is to upset Kolya over something like this by his habit of not being exactly quiet and, in fact, occasionally being misleading.

By now, Kolya is vaguely aware of being... not in normal brainspace, again. It's something he was, in all honesty, trying to resist - but the decision to adopt a more Direct Approach has rather done away with that whole strategy.

As it is, he's... thinking. Very quickly and very carefully. His exact lines of thought are unusually convoluted, but they reduce down to something fairly clear; namely, he's finally got Rodney pinned to his bed, with no risk of being interrupted, no immediate need for another Conversation, and plenty of time to take advantage of the situation.

At Rodney's words, Kolya can't help but smirk, although there's a flicker of warmth in his eyes at the honesty of **that** admission. "I won't break you," he promises, very much aware of the irony in that simple phrase.

Slowly, he alters his balance, reducing the pressure on Rodney's hands just enough to allow him to slide both palms higher, until they are almost tangled in the bars of the headboard. "Don't move," he says, in a low, firm whisper - tone clearly indicating that this isn't a request. And that if he's going to be told to stop, it needs to be soon. Very soon.

And then he pulls back, long enough to allow himself to reach over and retrieve something from his bedside table - something metallic, which glints in the low lighting; though which is not, in fact, bladed.

Rocking back onto Rodney, Kolya makes eye-contact once more, a pair of handcuffs now curled around one palm. "Do you **really** trust me?"

Rodney remains completely still and silent, proving that, on occasion, he actually can. His mouth opens as if to say something, taking a breath in - but nothing comes back out. He watches. Very, very aware of everything. Of the slight discomfort of keeping his hands above his head. Of the mattress under his back. The feel of air against his toes and soles. The warmth and weight of Kolya, where he's touching Rodney.

Handcuffs have always seemed a bit of a silly thing to be a symbol of... whatever they symbolise. Too cliché. Too... mainstream, perhaps. Made less significant by their frequency. So it comes as a bit of a surprise when the sight and sound of them is... so very tangible. 

Rodney's jaw is still a little slack when he looks from the cuffs to Kolya. He's trying to make eye contact, but his gaze keeps wanting to wander. There's a lot of things visible in his eyes.

Rodney has never really been conventional. Too smart, too loud. Too in the Pegasus galaxy, and apparently too gay. Or something. 

"If you... well I mean to say, you obviously do because otherwise you wouldn't have..." His voice drops and he's sure, of a sudden, that Kolya can hear and feel how fast his pulse is racing.

He shouldn't. He's seen what Kolya's capable of doing - how easy lying is to him. But. If everything Kolya's been saying and doing since they got here are a lie... then he's not the man Rodney took him for. And if this has any grounding, there has to be trust. Even if trusting people in the past has only lead to bad places.

Rodney nods, once. Says, quietly, "Yes." Mostly. As much as Rodney can trust anyone. Then he jams his eyes shut.

Working quickly but not at all hastily, Kolya loops the cuffs through the headboard, clicking them into place around Rodney's already-positioned wrists before leaning to kiss him again. And he savours the moment - really, really savours it. Because he can.

Because Rodney genuinely seems to have given Kolya proof of his trust. Which is, in itself, remarkable. Though there are... other steps he could go to. Other things he could suggest.

Maybe. Later.

For now, he's content to kiss slowly across Rodney's chest, the contact almost teasing. After all, if you give him time, he likes to use it. And now that he has a hand free - the other resting beside the doctor's head to hold himself up - he can once more trail fingers over Rodney's shoulder, down his chest and across his hip.

Teasing, teasing, teasing. Anticipation is the key, whether you're interrogating someone or in bed with them.

And yes, he did just think that.

It's amazing how much you can rely on something and not realise. Things like air, for instance. Who thinks about each breath they take in, unless they are trapped in a damaged submarine or something? And hands. Who realises just how much you need your hands until you can't move them? Or move yourself, much, at all?

Rodney pouts a little. He wants to use his hands. Wants very badly. There are so many things he could be doing. So many things he could be touching.

Except he can't. Because... he can't. Almost immediately, his shoulders tense, pulling the links taut about the headrest. They make a dull sound when he does that. Funny, Rodney expected something more… resonant.

"Kolya..." Rodney starts, jumping as he does... that. And. That. And - oh dear god - that too. "It's... it's all qui-et. Aaand where I... like this. Uh. Could you... talk?" he asks, somewhat hopelessly. Because. He's tied up. And all he can really do is shiver, drag his heel up and down part of Kolya's leg and - well - talk. And the silence is getting to be far too heavy. Far too pregnant. Far too...  
important, the soft noises inbetween.

His toes curl and uncurl repeatedly. If wriggling is a good sign then there's a very large amount of signification going on.

Oh, that obvious edge of tension is just so... 'Intoxicating' isn't the right word, but it's close. It certainly explains the little flicker in Kolya's eyes, visible even if you don't know quite where to look.

He continues to trace fingers over Rodney, running them from hip to stomach, and then lower, slowly across his thigh. There's such an odd edge to his movements, as if he's studying the contours of the doctor's body, exploring, listening to the different ways Rodney draws breath with each change in touch.

Maybe 'intoxicating' is the right word.

As Rodney speaks, Kolya leans closer again, the change in attention deliberately clear. He hears his name, and it... jars somewhat, though it takes him a second to realise why. "You really should start calling me Acastus," he says. Which is a fair point, though it still feels like a strange one to make.

"Yes, it's quiet," he goes on, his own voice deliberately low. "I was just... listening to you breathe."

Which is also a very odd thing to say. Though true, of course.

Acastus? Oh. First name. It's kind of difficult, because in his head, the man above him is 'Kolya'. It's all Elizabeth and Sheppard ever used. Kolya. Which sums him up nicely.

Except... not. It would make a kind of sense to call him Acastus. There are many, _many_ bad associations with his surname, whereas his first name is... normal, he guesses.

Rodney squirms under Kolya's - Acastus' fingers, unable to keep perfectly still.

"Right. Right. Acastus. That can be done. Yes. Although I might forget at first. I have trouble with changing names for people, but I'll certainly attempt to stop calling you - that."

He almost trips up over his words, voice shaky, but they do come out. He bites the tip of his tongue, listening for the rest. Moans, ever so slightly, almost under his breath. "That's... Well I breathe all the time... but of course it's..." Deep breath. "Different." And quite why does a simple statement like that have such a profound effect on him? Must be all the... exertion. With the sticks. Tiring him out. Because Rodney McKay isn't normally... this susceptible.

Now this is getting _really_ interesting, because that reply isn't what Kolya expected - and the way it was delivered speaks volumes.

He runs his hand back up Rodney's chest, the contact firmer now, finally slipping his fingers under the doctor's chin to tilt his head a little. And then he leans in, kissing him again, prolonging the moment before he pulls back to speak.

"You can tell so much from the way a person breathes," he goes on, voice still quiet and low, tone taking on a deceptively idle edge.

Rodney only too willingly lets K- lets him move his head up. Because. Yes. Contact is good. Really, really good. Not in contact sports, because Rodney was never good at those ever. But this contact... this is - well. Probably not any safer than gym. Although it's a narrow margin.

When Kolya pulls back, Rodney tries to follow him, feeling more than a little helpless and needy. "What does my breathing say?" he asks, voice trembly in an I'm-trying-not-to-tremble-and-it's-making-it-worse kind of way.

"It says that you're nervous despite trying to be calm," Kolya replies, fingers toying at the base of Rodney's neck again. "And that all of this is appealing to you in a strange way that you're still not sure of."

Still so incredibly slow and teasing, he leans to kiss Rodney's chest for a moment, the contact deliberately light, before he speaks once more. And as he does, he's suddenly right in the doctor's face, almost forehead-to-forehead. "You need to let go," he breathes. He's not entirely sure Rodney McKay has _ever_ truly let go, but he still believes it possible.

"Well, yes I must like it or I wouldn't be here, would I? Well. In theory. Though it raises all sorts of problems about consent, duress and coercion..." Which is not really that good a topic. Really. The tip of his tongue sneaks out in effort of concentration.

Then Rodney's jumping again, under each touch. Although not as much as he jumps when Kolya's all but making him cross-eyed with lack-of-distance. It clearly unnerves him. "What? Let go of what? I don't have _go_ of anything to let!" Although he has a horrible sneaking suspicion he has.

Kolya actually smirks at this, though it's a carefully controlled expression nonetheless. "Would you say I was coercing you?" he asks, trying not to sound **too** dangerous - though it's a question he rather enjoys asking.

Rodney's response to the second remark is a little more telling, however, and Kolya addresses it carefully. "I'm not asking you to let go of anything specific. I'm just asking you to let go... to lose yourself in the experience."

Like I'm losing myself in you.

"That... that's neither here nor there. I... I mean I'm not intoxicated, but I suppose you could say you've been encouraging me. I don't really know that much about what is and is not right. Just... just that I don't think I'll wake up in the morning screaming and trying to bleach my mind out or lobotomise myself with two pens."

Kolya should not ask difficult questions if Kolya does not want complicated non-answers.

Rodney pulls a face of distinct confusion. "In... I don't think I entirely - well I understand in spirit, of course, but - I'm sort of... actually I'm not going go mention that either. I... I thought I was?" The question sounds slightly pathetic, but he honestly doesn't entirely know. "Am I doing this wrong? I didn't know you could _do_ chained to a bed wrongly. Well. Not without lacerating wrists, anyway."

This remark is... very Rodney. Kolya realises he probably asked for it, but he can detect some sense of a genuine answer in between the slightly nervous rambling, so he decides not to push the question any further.

"You're not doing anything wrong," he says. "But at the same time, you need to stop thinking in terms of right and wrong. Don't let yourself over-analyse; merely... give in to instinct."

"What if my instinct is to cower in a corner whimpering quietly? Sorry. I realise that's not very tactful of me. It's just... people like you used to intimidate me. At least until I worked out I was much smarter than more or less everybody else I knew."

It is still up for debate if Rodney McKay has ever held a thought back in his life. Possibly he has.

"Not that I'm saying this is bad. Just... new. And I'm not entirely sure what my instinct wants me to do, apart from talk. Oh. And kissing. I think that's up there too."

"You don't have to be intimidated," Kolya states - and then his voice drops to say something else. "Not unless you want to be."

In all honesty, he's not certain how Rodney will respond to this, but finding out is likely to be interesting.

Rodney probably hasn't looked as shocked as he does now since Kolya kissed him in the first place. And then was dramatic enough, too.

Frankly, it isn't choice based. Rodney's intimidated, and all that rubbish about only being afraid if you let yourself is just nonsense, because Rodney's tried it over the years and either he isn't capable of it, or it's all bunk.

What the hell do you say to that?

"I don't think I have the option not to."

Admitting you're scared witless would be harder than that for most people. Not Rodney, though. As Kolya's likely seen how he feels on numerous occasions now. Although he does underestimate himself, or he would never have stepped into the light on Dagan. Would never have stepped through the Stargate to another galaxy, in the first place. Maybe he is scared, but he doesn't often let that control him entirely.

Kolya has always been one to love an honest admission - but an honest admission from Rodney McKay is even more incredible. Though it does raise a whole collection of new issues that may need attention.

And of course, he can't merely tell Rodney _not_ to be scared, because fear is such a fundamental emotion and one that cannot be made to disappear so easily. He can attempt to be reassuring, and try not to do anything that would be construed as dangerous, but he can't simply change the doctor's mindset.

It doesn't entirely help that he still **likes** that edge of fear - because whilst part of him is trying to tackle it, another part is trying to prolong it. And none of that makes any of this less complicated.

He also might be overthinking again. But that isn't particularly evident, as he leans in to kiss Rodney once more, taking his time before he breaks apart finally to speak. "You do," he insists, though the words don't feel quite right.

In all honesty, it's a very, very good job that Rodney doesn't know about the knife lying under the far end of the pillow - or that Kolya may have been slightly fixated on deliberately not thinking about it for the last few minutes.

If he just continues to not think about it, there won't be a problem.

Funny how something so alien and weird and new and confusing as kissing Kolya has, somehow, now become perfectly acceptable. So much so that Rodney really, really wants to do more. And other things, too, of course. But the surprise of that is less now.

He shifts a little uncomfortably. "Maybe I do. But I won't. I... always am. I can't stop that any more than I can stop being incredibly intelligent."

"It's... well I expect you could say it's who I am. Panic. Babble. Egotism." He smiles slightly, self-deprecating. Not often that he openly recognises his own monomania.

"Gate travel always made me nervous. But I got used to that. Only by keeping going, though. Because it's not like you can turn around to yourself and - maybe you can - but thinking, 'I'm not going to worry' just doesn't work for me. I just talk and overthink and talk more."

He tilts his head. "But you know that, don't you? By now, anyway."

Leaning closer once more, Kolya runs a finger down the side of Rodney's cheek, another of those strangely fond smiles coming to his lips as the doctor speaks. "Oh, I do," he agrees, lightly. "Those are two characteristics one could not help but attribute to you."

And then he smirks rather knowingly. "Amongst other things."

He's still pointedly not thinking about thinking about the knife, either. Nor is he cursing himself for that extremely bad mental pun.

Like a cat, Rodney's eyes half-shut in pleasure and he leans into the finger - the only real action he can take right now. He chews his lip, clearly bracing himself, and jams his eyes shut.

"Please," he says, suddenly - although from the sound of it, he's been thinking it over for a long, long time. "I just..." Bad construction. Choose another. "...need. Now. I'm... not good at waiting." When he dares open his eyes again, they're the eyes of scarily sincere intent. The kind of look it is genuinely hard to fake, without at some level believing in what you say. He's more manipulative than even he realises, actually. For all he likes to think of himself as self-aware - and as much as he often is - some things just completely pass under his radar.

"Acastus."

Like, say, that.

Kolya more or less loses any lingering restraint at this - the look in Rodney's eyes is reason enough, but his words - and the feeling behind them - are pure emotional gold.

Although Kolya does, of course, prefer silver. And gunmetal.

He kisses Rodney at once, again resorting to the nigh-on bruising intensity that he so often favours; free hand snaking down the doctor's chest somewhat faster than before. But then he decides that, first, he ought to give some sort of response.

So he pulls back and looks Rodney in the eye, a smirk crossing his face. "As you wish."

***

It is hard to be aware of the exact passing of time whilst underground, unless you spend all of it staring at a clock. As such, all Kolya can know with certainty, some time later, is that it's some time later.

Both he and Rodney now lie curled in the bed, still rather entangled with each other and the blankets. Kolya doesn't speak; opting instead to enjoy the silence until Rodney chooses to break it.

Which, sooner or later, he will. Of course.

Rodney is very rarely entirely still. If he's thinking, working, his leg might move, or a pen might tap, or his fingers drum. It's all very unconscious, actually, and if anyone made a study, they'd probably be able to work out a language all of his own making.

Currently, it's his first two fingers on his left hand, the right one mostly propping his head up. They tap-tap-tap some tune or other on Kolya's hip. It helps him think.

"You're going to have to shave, you know. Or at least invest in a better pair of scissors."

Sometimes Rodney forgets other people aren't listening to the voice inside his head.

The commander's first response is to stare back - because, really, how **does** the man manage to come out with such odd remarks all the time? Though Kolya is, naturally, getting used to these little Rodney-isms - as much as one can, of course.

He smirks. "I'm trying to push through a very unexpected peace deal. Let's try not to invert my **entire** worldview all at once."

Well. Was that... a joke? Surely not.

Rodney appears to take the comment entirely at face value. "Well you were clean-shaven when we met," he points out, calmly. No indication that their first meeting was anything like it actually turned out to be. "So it isn't that much of an inversion. You don't even have to get rid of it all, just make sure it's well-tamed, because I have particularly sensitive skin and I don't really want stubble rash because _that_ isn't going to go unnoticed and is rather  
unpleasant besides."

Sometimes Rodney Paragraphs are not, actually, diatribes. It's just how he thinks.

"I'll... take that into consideration," Kolya agrees, almost amused, and he continues to stare at Rodney for a moment with a slight smile on his face - until an entirely new thought crosses his mind. One that really should be discussed - and considering how bad he believes himself to be at slightly more frivolous conversation, Kolya takes the opportunity without hesitation.

"On a slightly more serious note, we ought to sort out exactly what you're going to do whilst you're here. I'm fairly confident that sitting in something close to prison isn't exactly high on your wants list?"

He makes it a question, although doesn't need to. But. Old habits. And so on.

"If you put me back in that room without something to do, I will stuff pencils up my nose and put my underwear on my - wait, never mind. Yes, I do need occupying, or I will go insane and no one will guard the door without first being issued with industrial strength earplugs."

Drum, drum, drum go the fingers. For the minute, at least, he's un-self-conscious and not the least thinking about what he's doing and saying. Relaxed, one might even say.

"I might be able to arrange something for you," Kolya says. "In one of our science departments. I have... a few contacts."

It doesn't take much to note the way he uses that word. It sounds rather like a euphemism for 'people who will do what I say.'

Or suffer the consequences.

"Well I wasn't expecting to be put to work in the mines, or the tava fields, or helping interrogate people. I'm not really very good at any of those things, either. But can it be away from the intense, unshielded radiation? I rather like not glowing in the dark and having bits of me drop off."

This response elicits more than a slight smirk. "I would highly recommend you stay away from the tava. And as for interrogating people... possibly that is not the best place for you."

He's looking at the issue from a lighter, more amused perspective at the moment. Later on, it is going to give the commander some rather more serious thoughts.

"I wasn't going to suggest you worked with anything radioactive. If nothing else, I doubt you would be granted clearance. But I may well be able to get you into something a little less... classified."

"Please. I was the one who told Cowan how to shield and how to _detonate_ them properly. Your atomic development is several years behind ours, and I've been building them - without actual radioactive material, of course - since everyone else in my class was still struggling with long division. The only thing I could possibly learn that I don't already know about is where you keep the others, everyone who works on them, and their flaws. But as knowing their flaws would only be a tactical advantage if, oh, I decided to inform the Wraith, because if you launch them on Atlantis either it wouldn't matter because we'd all be dead, or it wouldn't matter, because the shield would keep us perfectly safe."

"Not that I want to work with them, though." It's just a case of professional pride. Okay, personal pride. And Rodney has lots of that. "Something theoretical will do just as well, though. As long as it isn't tediously dull and easy. I hate being under-stimulated."

And just when he **should** stop, when it sounds like he will, he adds, "And why should I stay away from the tava? Is that radioactive too?"

Rather than getting into a discussion on Genii Nuclear Development, Kolya decides to stick to the question in hand. "The person I have in mind is... well. I'm not entirely sure what he does, but I think it should be appropriate enough. I will talk to him soon."

He has no problem admitting that his scientific knowledge is extremely limited; given that he is a soldier and an interrogator, and not, in fact, a scientist. Though he's less likely to admit that since his first encounter with one Rodney McKay, he's been seen in the science departments somewhat more often than before.

At Rodney's other remark, the commander's expression quickly becomes a **very** obvious, really rather devious smirk. "Maybe one day soon I will show you," he says, being deliberately cryptic.

"Hm. Well. I'll let you know if I'm bored. Although given the right equipment, I'm capable of working to my own standard amongst... other people." The implication being: other, less intelligent people. But he does have some grounds for feeling superior - in this respect, he actually is superior to most people.

Rodney is not so much interested in nature. Nature makes him cough, sneeze, and occasionally go into anaphylactic shock. So the tava is ignored - although he is now craving coffee.

"I'm hungry," he announces. He really would have been better born a prince.

At this, Kolya gives him a Look, though a fairly lighthearted one. "One of our mess halls is reasonably close by," he says, "though it would be unwise for you to go alone. I, on the other hand, need to talk to Cowan as a matter of some urgency," - which is no understatement, and Kolya knows it.

"I will go and find Jerran-" -who is obviously his aforementioned 'contact' in the science department- "-and the two of you can get acquainted over whatever meal we're up to."

He really is losing track of time, which he normally would not do. How deeply tedious.

"Good. I could eat a horse, if it didn't taste horrible." And then he smiles, lopsidedly, in a way he hasn't since he got here. Actually, in a way Kolya isn't likely ever to have seen.

Amazing what a little stick to stick combat can do for a man.

It is, once again, a good job Kolya is unable to hear what Rodney is thinking. Very much so. As it is, he is entirely caught up in the doctor's smile, returning one of his own as he leans to place a light kiss on Rodney's lips.

"It shouldn't take me long to locate Jerran," he says, pulling back again. "In the meantime, just stay here and I will return shortly."

Then, slowly and more than a little reluctantly, he slips out of bed and locates a spare uniform - realising with what might actually be amusement that he left his own in the changing rooms down in the training centre.

When Kolya gets up, Rodney shifts onto his back and tugs the covers up. "I take it I can use the shower and it does, in fact, respond to human command?"

Fastening the buttons on his jacket, Kolya turns. "It does. And you can."

He walks almost idly across the room, picking up his gun from the desk, causing the pages of the book it was lying on to lift slightly. You might wonder why he needs to be armed in order to see a scientist about... well, a scientist, though the question is not one many would dare ask.

"Mmm. Good." Rodney just stares for a moment, waiting for Kolya to leave. He doesn't entirely have any clue what to do at all, now. So he sprawls. And sprawls some more. And thinks about coffee.

Nice, dark, hot, strong coffee. Lots of it. Maybe even with a biscuit.

With a last nod, Kolya turns to leave, the door clunking open and then shut as he steps back into the corridor. And at once he's setting off, now heading for the more scientifically-orientated sections of the bunker - hoping that Jerran will be there and not off doing... well. Whatever it is he does when he's not in one of the labs.

The silence of the walk gives the commander time to think - though he isn't thinking about Jerran. Jerran won't be a problem. Jerran will do what Kolya asks and occupy Rodney and thereby prevent the good doctor from going completely underground-crazy. Oh no. Kolya is now thinking entirely about what he's going to say to Cowan - because Cowan is next on his list of people to talk to.

The Genii leader is going to be a lot more awkward. Kolya is fairly sure that the man must have heard... reports by now. Even if the soldier who will **never** again enter a room without knocking hasn't said anything, the guards who had been assigned to Rodney's cell will have done. Kolya did, after all, promise to bring the man back.

Trust him to get... carried away.

This collection of thoughts sees him as far as the science departments - a large, slightly more isolated section somewhat further out. Kolya heads at once in the direction of Jerran's usual location; a lab on the lower level, and is soon opening the door. Inside, amidst a collection of rather odd-looking tools and devices, a tallish, thinnish man is pacing up and down, gesturing with a pen and talking to himself.

"No, no, no, that's not right. So if I invert the field it destabilises, but if not, it..." The man, who is clearly Jerran, freezes to the spot. "Oh. Commander. I didn't expect to be seeing you any time soon."

"Yet here I am. I need you to do something for me. Something extremely important."

This elicits a slightly nervous look, but Jerran presses on. "I see. What is it?"

"You are no doubt aware that when I returned from..." _The Planet of the Dinosaurs. The Planet of the Dinosaurs. That forsaken rock populated by hideous **things**. The Planet of the Dinosaurs._ "...offworld, I was not alone?"

Jerran's eyes flicker, and Kolya can see it at once. "I... had heard that, yes."

Clearly, rumours are already spreading. **Wonderful**. The commander adopts a rather dangerous tone. "And just what _have_ you heard?"

"I... well. Something to the effect that you and the Atlantean... Look. I'm not even going to say it. I like my limbs where they are, thank you very much."

Trying to maintain some semblance of calm, Kolya forces himself to stay focused. "Doctor McKay needs to be kept occupied." And whilst he'd like to be responsible for that, his other obligations are starting to become rather pressing. "He needs something to do, and I want him to work with you."

Silence. Jerran stares. "Commander. You can't be asking me to..."

"I am," Kolya interrupts. "I want you to come with me. I will introduce you to the doctor, and then I would recommend you take him to one of the mess halls before letting him assist in... whatever it is you're currently working on."

More silence. This time, Jerran resorts to blinking. "...the mess halls?"

"Even Atlanteans need to eat, you know."

"Right, right... look, run this by me again. You want me to babysit one of the most important Atlanteans whom you managed to waltz through the 'Gate with and are now..." He holds up his hands after one second of Kolya's Very Dangerous Glare. "All right, all right! I'll do it."

"Excellent. Come with me."

"Yes... er... where exactly are we going?"

"To retrieve the doctor."

"And he would be..?"

"Now? Most likely in my shower."

Jerran blinks a lot more, obviously trying not to say something, but opts to follow without causing a scene. He stays quiet as they walk, although Kolya can detect the occasional odd look every time Jerran considers speaking and then thinks better of it.

Eventually, they arrive back at Kolya's door, and he pulls out his keycard again. Hmmm. Might be wise to check that Rodney is slightly more clothed than he was when Kolya left.

He looks at Jerran, holding up a hand. "Wait here."

And then he opens the door.

Rodney is the nosy sort, and doesn't really have any respect for privacy - such a thing only being an issue if a) someone is on **his** laptop or b) someone hits him for being rude. But hunger and estrangement on an alien planet and the lack of his laptop make him forget himself again. Which is why he's wandered around, dressed, and is reclining on the bed with his shoes off but his socks on, reading one of Kolya's books. His hair is a little unruly, and a little damp in places, but he's presentable.

"Oh. There you are. I was beginning to think you'd gone to Dagan to fetch him."

All things considered, this could have gone a lot worse - though Kolya can still feel Jerran staring around his shoulder as soon as Rodney speaks. The commander, meanwhile, rather wishes that the mention of Dagan had been avoided.

If nothing else, Jerran is aware of the significance of that particular world - to some extent, at least.

"No. I did not." He couldn't have, if he'd wanted to, due to a tedious little order of Cowan's which restricts Kolya to the Genii homeworld for the time being.

Satisfied that Rodney is presentable enough, Kolya steps further into the room and gestures Jerran in after him. The Genii scientist looks genuinely startled at this, and hesitates before finally moving - after another Look from the good commander overrides any other impulses.

Jerran blinks at Rodney, clearly wondering if he ought to say something. Ironically, Kolya saves him the trouble. "Jerran. This is Doctor Rodney McKay."

Rodney waves in an off-hand manner from the bed. "Hi."

And immediately turns his attention back to Kolya, as though expecting something more. And possibly because he isn't really all that interested in Genii scientists per se.

This is tricky, this is awkward, this is downright dangerous, but Kolya knows he has to keep things going. "I need to talk to Cowan. Urgently." He says this entirely to Rodney, not Jerran; and, as such, does not elaborate. Rodney is aware enough of the reasons, and Jerran can either guess or live with the mystery.

He says no more, but gives Rodney a start-moving-because-time-is-no-longer-on-my-side look.

Oh. Rodney puts down the book. He more or less gets the message.

"Right. Well. I expect you will come and find me when you are finished." He looks at the other man. Then starts. "Shoes..." he says, then sits down on the end of the bed, tying them on.

_Then_ he stands again. "So. Gerrard, is it? I take it you know where the food is kept in this place?"

"I will," Kolya promises him. And he will. He says no more, walking across his room to pick something up whilst Rodney puts on his shoes. That something might just be his knife, though he doesn't make it obvious.

Jerran, meanwhile, watches Rodney rather carefully, as if concerned that all of this is some kind of set-up - or something underhand that is going to get him into trouble. When Rodney gets his name wrong, he sighs, though only a little. "Jerran," he corrects, almost automatically. "And yes. I do."

"So why are we still here?" Rodney asks, straightening up. "I feel like I haven't eaten in a month, and I have to be careful I don't get hypoglycaemic."

Jerran gives Kolya one last, rather imploring, why-are-you-making-me-do-this? look. In response, the commander merely says, "I will find you in the lab later on. Try not to do anything that will exacerbate this situation." By which he means, mess this up and you **will** regret it.

Resigned, Jerran gestures to Rodney. "Come on," he says, leading the way from the room, with Kolya following them out. The commander gives Rodney one last look and sets off in the opposite direction to Jerran, who is clearly hoping that a) the mess hall will be empty, and b) Rodney eats quickly.

"What do you do anyway, Jerod?" Rodney asks, not even bothering to feign a politely interested tone.

"Jerran," the scientist corrects automatically, **again**. "My work is on a more theoretical basis, although..."

This looks like the start of... well. A conversation Jerran is unlikely to forget in a hurry.

Sometimes he really wishes Kolya had chosen someone **else** to pester when he suddenly developed an interest in science.

***

Heading in the opposite direction - and trying not to think about whether any of this was a good idea - Kolya finds himself reverting once more to mental-rehearsal mode. If he can just work out a) what Cowan is likely to know, b) what Cowan is likely to say, and c) what Cowan is likely to want, he's got a better chance of dealing with the man, before his _illustrious_ leader gets the wrong impression.

But he is not going to give way on this, that much is certain. At times, Kolya will defer to Cowan's judgement - but this instance is one in which he will argue to the bitter end. Which is something he needs to be sure of. No caving in.

And then he's back in those familiar corridors, approaching the door to Cowan's office. Wonderful. Possibly, this time, it might be wise to refrain from shooting anyone in front of the man.

Possibly. He knocks, at last ready for yet another Conversation.

Oh good. More capital letters.

Cowan does, in fact, have work to do. Rather a lot of work to do. Subordinates have this wonderful way of both failing to take the burden of toil from your shoulders and also making more work.

There are many stacks of paper on Cowan's desk, and more he knows are coming. And most of them have to do with the Atlantean Commander Kolya brought back, and the resultant peace talks with that Atlantean's people.

Cowan does not like Doctor Rodney McKay. Cowan does not like him at all.

"Yes," he barks at the young soldier - seemingly impervious to his superior's mood - who has just finished his report. "Fine. Contact the relevant people. Now go."

This is all turning out to be so much of a headache. It's just one bad thing after another.

There is a knock at the door. "Come in," he snaps irritably, ready to tear a strip out of whoever comes in, unless they come bringing good news for a change.

The edge to Cowan's voice is obvious at once, though Kolya refuses to be bothered by it. This, like everything else, is just another factor in the whole equation...

Oh. He really did just think that. Clearly all this contact with scientists is affecting him.

As Kolya opens the door, the young soldier comes hurrying past, looking rather relieved to be departing - another telling sign of the Genii leader's current mood. Hmmm. This is going to be tricky.

The commander doesn't say anything at first, preferring to let Cowan make the first move. That way, he can have a coherent plan of attack from the word 'go.'

Which is a much better analogy. Yes.

Possibly he's overthinking again.

"Well?" Cowan asks, not rising, not offering a seat. His tone is less than pleasant. "What have you got to say for yourself?" he demands, picking up a few piles of paper and letting them land heavily on the desktop.

There are a lot of things Kolya has wanted to say to Cowan for some time. The chief was never one of his favourite people, but as leader of the Genii, Kolya always made a point of respecting him. That was until the Atlantis mission. To this day, the commander maintains that blame for what happened rests primarily with the man who forced the attack to go ahead.

Cowan. The chief, as far as Kolya is concerned, bears the same responsibility for all those deaths as Colonel Sheppard.

Cowan should have been blamed for Idos' death. Not Kolya. This point is crucial.

On the other hand, the man is still in charge and still incredibly powerful. And if Kolya wants to get through this, he's going to have to co-operate, to a point.

Which he really, really hates.

Lesser men might choose this moment to start with 'none of this is my fault,' or 'look, I can explain,' or 'damn it, you spend twenty-four hours on the Planet of the Dinosaurs and see what it does to **your** judgement!'

Kolya does not. Kolya regards his leader with professional, level calm.

"No one was permanently injured," he states, flatly.

Oh, good start, Acastus.

"And I know what I'm doing. I'm perfectly capable of judging the risks in this situation."

He's also being rather vague. But he'd bet a great deal that Cowan knows exactly what he means. As much as anyone ever does, of course.

"It's the part that isn't permanent that bothers me," Cowan points out sourly. "Two men with gunshot wounds. Two. And yet you bring this... this Atlantean back with nothing but a few minor abrasions." A little understatement. But not much.

"You do remember that you _are_ a Genii, don't you, Commander?"

Cowan puts his hands down firmly on the desk, gripping the edge as he stands up. He's a little too short to loom, but he does give the impression, somewhat, of a squat, angry volcano. Very angry.

"You abducted the hostage. Where is he now? Are you letting him wander around our base as he pleases? Should we open the door to the Wraith as well? This is unacceptable behaviour, and I will **not** tolerate it."

In the face of this, Kolya still looks remarkably calm. What he's actually **thinking** is nigh-on treasonous, but on the outside, there's not a flicker of evidence to betray his feelings.

He chooses not to succumb to his need to point out that Rodney's injuries, far from being 'minor abrasions,' were very nearly lethal. Besides, there's a far more important response that he wants - no, _needs_ to make.

"That fact has not left my mind for even the barest moment," he states, very firmly. "I know my responsibilities, and my loyalties, and neither have been sacrificed in the face of any of this."

The commander does believe that, of course. Completely. Whatever he may think about Cowan, the Genii as a whole will always have his allegiance.

"I did not abduct him," he replies, maintaining that calmness in his voice. Although where this particular issue is concerned, he knows he's going to have more trouble. Rodney has been missing for hours, and is now sitting in a mess hall somewhere having - well, whichever meal they're up to - with a scientist already known for having a weakness for doing exactly what Kolya tells him.

All right. Time to be a little more honest and a little more specific. "I made an informed decision. Doctor McKay is going to be here a while, and I for one am well aware that keeping him locked up will have a profound effect on his mental state." Oh yes. Go for specifics, related to his particular, well-known abilities, and Cowan might just have to accept his expertise. Might.

"I reasoned that keeping him occupied would be a better choice of action - after all, the Atlanteans will not take kindly to us returning him after a breakdown. And if he is not to be returned, for whatever reason, causing such a breakdown ahead of time would be unwise."

That almost sounds like the man Kolya was **before** the Planet of the Dinosaurs. Though there's no way he'd let Cowan have Rodney tortured if all this collapses and the man ends up as a permanent Genii prisoner. None at all. Which is really quite a serious standpoint to be considering.

"You had no authority to remove him from custody," Cowan growls. "No right at all. You should have contacted _me_ about this. And you are in no position to make objective decisions, because I am well aware that you are compromised in this situation."

Cowan has a big book on his desk. What it is doesn't really matter. What matters most is that he picked the book up at the beginning of the tirade, and he lets it drop at the end.

Thunk.

"I am already not happy with your behaviour, Commander. And I would think that someone under restriction to this planet and off the regular duty roster until further notice would realise - if he had achieved the rank you have - that he should be behaving impeccably."

"Where is he right now? Right this moment? He isn't under your supervision, and I've not had confirmation back from his guards that he has been returned to his room." Cell. Same difference.

And now they're reaching the crux of the whole matter, which presents Kolya with one of the most difficult decisions he can face - complete honesty, or an insufficient but defensive half-truth. Ordinarily, the latter would win out. No need to tell people what they don't need - or deserve - to know.

But this is a very unusual situation indeed, and Kolya knows that he really _needs_ to explain himself this time, awkward though such a thing may be.

"Compromised?" he repeats - his tone **just** the safe side of dangerous. "I am not compromised. You think this is frivolous, that I am acting on a whim? I am not. I am merely trying to reconcile my _unwavering_ loyalties to the Genii with the fact that I am in love with Rodney McKay."

Oddly, saying this isn't as difficult as he'd expected. It just feels so very wrong to admit it to Cowan before he finally says it to Rodney.

He never flinches - never pauses, never hesitates - not even when Cowan's little habit of using desk-based materials to emphasise his mood leads to that particularly harsh thunk. If Kolya can escape from a Wraith ship, fight off swarms of dinosaurs, and manage to survive Conversations, he is not going to be intimidated by his boss.

Not intimidated. Though it would be a lie to say some level of concern hasn't crossed the commander's mind.

"Right now? He is under the supervision of one of our scientists; away from anything nuclear, naturally."

Because Kolya is no fool. Although he's beginning to wonder if he can get through this encounter without it dissolving into another shouting match.

At that, Cowan actually laughs. It's a dull laugh, not the least friendly and more than a little cruel. "You really have gone stark-raving mad. Love? In the space of time you've known him?"

Cowan circles around to the front of his desk now, clearly taut, sneer on his face. "There's a well-known reaction to stress in the field, which men with a... sensitive disposition and a lack of self-control can suffer from. I had thought better of you."

"Jerran," Cowan says, and it's more statement than question. Perhaps he has been told. Perhaps it's an informed guess. It's difficult to say.

"Doctor McKay is eminently capable of sabotaging the Genii war effort, let alone the danger of him having even more information about our operations. I cannot and will not allow it."

There are very few things that truly bother Kolya - and most are connected in some way to Athos, Atlantis, or both. As such, he's usually difficult to get at, unless you start mentioning things like Gate shields, Potentias, or Idos.

Or if you accuse him of being somehow emotionally unsound. Which he isn't. Usually.

There's a hostile retort on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back - just - to something a little more level. "No, sir," he says, still very flatly, and in one of his stating-the-obvious voices. "I have not gone stark-raving mad. I am, in fact, well aware of what I am doing and what I am feeling. And as for my psychological state, I would have thought that past experience was proof enough of my ability to stay in complete control."

It's hard to be sure what Kolya's reaction is to the immediate appearance of Jerran's name. Like so many other reactions in his case, very little is obvious. "Jerran, yes," he replies. "He's competent and I trust him." Possibly that won't hold much weight now, but Kolya feels perfectly justified in saying it anyway.

"Rodney McKay will do nothing to sabotage this facility or any of its operations. You have my word."

And there's the Critical Statement. If Cowan can't be made to accept it, things will rapidly get Tricky. Not that they're currently anywhere near 'easy.'

"Your word?" The laugh, again. He laughs often, does Cowan, although he rarely really has reason. "Not that it's worth that much to me. But all right then. As you are so hell-bent on... keeping this man... let him be your complete responsibility. Anything and everything he does will be done in your name. And when he makes that mistake, or tries that routine - I will have you out and assigned permanent sentry duty, or a desk job for the rest of your life. Do I make myself clear?"

This time, Kolya almost snaps. He's so utterly close to doing something that he might even regret - albeit something that would be a momentary triumph of the highest order.

But no. He doesn't need to give in to that. He doesn't need to give Cowan the satisfaction, because the bastard certainly doesn't deserve it. And he believes in what he's saying - to the point that Cowan's threats almost feel hollow, because they won't ever be fulfilled.

Watch his tone, though. It usually only appears when someone is about to suffer immensely. "Perfectly clear. _Sir_. And when no mistakes are made, no plans sabotaged, and our people reap the benefits of this, I hope you will remember that I do not give my word lightly."

He resists the urge to say '...that this was all my idea.' Just.

Pure contempt is what Kolya will see in return. The man, in Cowan’s eyes, has merely perpetrated one terrible mistake after another, wasted Genii efforts and people and pushed them to an alliance with a people he has a personal, private, intense dislike of.

"Both of you are confined to this planet," he reminds Kolya. "Everything you do, everything you say, will be brought to my attention. And if either of you makes as much as **one** slip, you will live with the consequences."

That is all but growled out. Cowan really, really does not like the Atlanteans at all. Not one bit.

"Now get out of my office and make sure your... companion plays this by my book."

Focus, Acastus, focus. And stop internally talking to yourself. And no, you cannot do that to him, no matter how much better it would make you feel. No. There would be too much blood and a lot of people might notice if their leader suddenly turned up dead.

Kolya really has to force himself not to remark on how well he can live with someone else's mistakes. Partly because he knows it's an unwise thing to say. And partly because it isn't entirely true.

In fact, why reply at all? Cowan isn't worth it. Kolya gives him a nod in recognition of what's been said, then turns and heads for the door.

He hasn't felt this level of hatred since...

Since he looked down the barrel of his own gun into John Sheppard's eyes. The man who also bears responsibility for so many deaths. The man who Kolya should have shot without hesitation, but somehow chose not to.

The man who couldn't even do the decent thing and kill him.

Possibly the commander is in a very bad mood right about now. That would explain why he has every intention of organising another long duel. Quickly.

Kolya is becoming increasingly a higher liability each day, it seems. If it weren't for the fact he did his job so well, he would have found himself out on an untenable limb long ago.

Cowan stalks back to his chair and sits. And drums his fingers. And thinks. And then calls for someone.

"Fetch me Commander Athos Leontis. He and I have business to discuss..."

***

Hatred is such an effective motivator, and as such it isn't long before Kolya is back in his favourite training room, back in black, and back in action. Opposite him, Rokal and Valtain slowly circle, aware only that they're unlikely to get out of here without bruises. If they're really lucky, they might be able to walk out unaided.

When Commander Kolya makes his feelings evident, he makes them evident. And right now, he is clearly, obviously and totally irate. Valtain - who has known Kolya for longer - hasn't seen him this angry since his return from Dagan.

Valtain still has a scar from said incident, and Rokal is still immensely thankful to have been offworld at the time.

They launch into battle, and it's almost a shame that no one else is here to see this majestic dance across the room, this vibrant blaze of movement, of form and purpose and instinct.

And, naturally, of smacking people with great big sticks.

It goes on for a while. Even when Kolya manages not only to floor but pin both his opponents simultaneously, he merely pauses and then backs off, waiting for them to stand and fight again.

He's trying to stay focused. Really, he is. He's trying to remind himself that this will work out, that nothing will go wrong, and that, if nothing else, he's got Rodney. Unfortunately, he also has a vicious bastard for a boss, an ex-best friend who now hates him, and a crowd of subordinates who aren't robust enough.

Twenty minutes later, the commander has little choice but to dismiss Rokal and Valtain before either of them actually pass out. And Rokal really needs to have a doctor check out his ribs, because that crack might not have been the stick.

Once the pair of younger Genii are gone, Kolya stays behind, running through a series of katas, trying to lose himself in them, trying to calm down and regain focus.

This might take a while.

***

Commander Athos Leontis is not in a good mood. Athos has not been in a good mood for a while now, actually, but this mood is worse than his usual bad moods. The difference being orders, especially difficult ones, and the duty to follow them.

Which is why he isn't thinking straight. Or much, actually. If he was, he would probably have realised that just like he is going to the training rooms to work off some of his temper, certain other people, who are mostly responsible for his temper, will be there.

Which, of course, Kolya is. But it isn't until Athos has opened the door loudly and taken several purposeful steps into the room, too many to turn around silently, that he notices Acastus.

Ah. This would be just about right. Paranoia is justified if the world really does hate you.

Now in the middle of a particularly tricky - read: relaxing - kata, Kolya is somewhat surprised to hear the door opening behind him. This is most unusual. Very few people would dare interrupt one of his training sessions - though if he's lost track of time again...

Thinking little of it for the few seconds before he looks around, Kolya relaxes, combat staff in one hand, turning to see who has just walked in on him.

And he sees. And then the bottom more or less drops out of his world, at exactly the same instant as the bitter anger rises once again.

Of all the people it could be. _Of all the people_.

"Athos."

"Acastus." Athos' tone is formal, closed. It's the voice of professional disinterest. It hides a hell of a lot.

"I did not know you were... busy in here." He leans ever so slightly to one side, trying to work out what he should say next. "I can easily find another room," he says. Let it be Kolya who turns him away. Then it is not his fault. Even if he isn't being conciliatory at all in tone, and does want to be turned away.

In all honesty, this chance meeting presents an opportunity for Kolya to speak to Athos without having to go looking for him - without having to give the impression that he's making an effort.

Athos does not deserve it. But at the same time, given everything that has come before, Kolya feels that he ought to be talking to the man. Not because he owes it to him, but because it simply ought to be done.

This, however, is not a good time, given Kolya's current mood. Though now that the opportunity to have this discussion has presented itself, he is unwilling to turn it away. And, as such, he does not give the extremely hostile reply that his mind immediately presents; choosing instead to start with something a little more civil.

"No," he says. "Do join me."

Oh, this is going to be fun. If one considers the word 'fun' to mean something along the lines of 'extremely unpleasant,' of course.

To decline would be horrendously impolite. Would be contrary to Athos’... current mission.

Would be to turn down the chance to beat Acastus Kolya into the floor until he feels better - although the chances of that on a good day were something like forty percent. Other things got in the way of Athos' training, and he'd never had quite the flair that Acastus did, even though he was one of the best at sparring.

But on days like this, emotional baggage could swing the fight dramatically either way. And even being pummelled was preferable to being seen to back down.

"I will change," he says, and walks to the side of the room to do so, back to Kolya.

Kolya doesn't even nod, merely turning and continuing with his kata whilst he waits. Though now his thoughts aren't so much on form and precision as they are on beating Athos Leontis squarely into the floor and leaving him there.

So nice to know he has his priorities straight.

And oh... the irony in that sentence is almost too much.

Athos is not the least bit afraid to undress and dress in the company of others. It is something you soon learn to shun when you have to do it so often. You also learn the skill of leaving yourself practically covered at all points.

Athos has his own weaponry, but those items in the room will also do. Still, he has a preference, and he finds the one he likes the most, then stands outside the circle, staff held steadily, not wanting to interrupt the sequence.

By this point, the kata is virtually over - but Kolya would have made Athos wait if he'd had more to go. Once he's ready, he finally makes eye-contact again. "Something slower, to warm up?" he asks. It's a perfectly fair question, but if you're used to the way Kolya talks, there's a lot more to it.

Warming up is sensible and intelligent and is the right thing to do, especially when you are already tense for other reasons. Not warming up is a rookie's mistake, or an over-confident amateur's. The part where he could be injured is not the part that is likely, or even worrying. It's the pain the next day that Athos is mindful of.

Still.

"Not that much," he says, still too-perfectly emotionless to be believable. "I already stretched," he lies.

_Oh, very convincing, Athos. Next tell me that you've had a chance to re-think everything and maybe you said one or two things you shouldn't have..._

Kolya's thoughts are somewhat bitter, but he doesn't voice them. Not yet, at least.

"Very well," he says, instead. It makes no difference to him - **he** is ready to launch into any level of exertion. If Athos' stubbornness gets him injured... well. That is entirely the man's own fault.

Kolya spins his combat staff, changing stance, and moves in at once, aiming a high blow followed by a low one. No sense in using all his tricks straight away. Besides, it's been a while since he fought Athos, and as such he wants to know if the man's style has changed.

He very much doubts it.

Men who spar with Acastus Kolya and have any sense whatsoever are prepared for an immediate attack, and Athos simply tilts his staff one way and then the other, swinging the low end forward when he's finished and stepping in, trying to make Kolya circle with him.

If nothing else, fighting with Kolya is good exercise, because he has to block differently.

Athos says nothing, waiting to see if Kolya is in the mood to follow his step, or counter some other way. It's a trait of his, to wait to see what mood his opponent is in, and to adjust accordingly. But he is sometimes prone to losing patience. No one is perfect.

If nothing else, Kolya is insistent of one thing - he's not following Athos' lead. Not now, not ever. So once his attacks have been countered, he deliberately steps the other way, stick up to block anything Athos may choose to do as he's moving.

And all the time, he's focusing furiously, even more so than usual. Because there is no way Athos is going to win this. Not if Kolya has any say in the matter.

"Your shoulder has improved since last we duelled," Athos points out, neatly changing leading foot to turn in the other direction. Speaking is a bad idea. Always has been - though Athos has a very deliberate reason this time.

Crack, crack, crack. He launches into one of the most complex katas he knows, ready to break the rhythm at any given moment.

The look in Kolya's eyes at this little remark would probably melt lead - a flash of bright, bitter fury that he doesn't bother to hide. There's no point, not with Athos. And besides, he wants the man to see exactly what he thinks of him right now.

"I am capable of improvement over time," he states, in one of his flat, level, I-am-going-to-hurt-you voices. "Unlike **some**."

And then he's concentrating on Athos' chosen attack - a nicely tricky kata, and, helpfully, one that Kolya practiced earlier. He blocks each swipe fluidly, preparing to attack as soon as the last stroke falls.

Just before the end of the routine, right after Kolya switches stance to anticipate the next move, Athos steps back and brings the lower end of his staff up. Hard. He's reaching slightly, so there isn't as much force as he's capable of using, but he's that little bit further back in case Kolya tries to get past his guard.

"I expect you are," he says, at the close. "You do need it."

At this, Kolya snaps. **Completely**. He goes from extremely irate to something much, much worse in the blink of an eye, losing any lingering traces of restraint. As Athos attacks upwards, Kolya swings sideways, stick catching Athos' and sweeping it out of the way - and then, in a moment of incredible, intense fury, he launches a counter-strike.

Athos is very good at this, but Kolya knows him far too well. Amongst other things, he knows exactly what to do once he gets past the man's defences.

The mad flurry of blows manages to hit home on the second strike, and once it does, holding Kolya back is nigh-on impossible. Smash, crash, drop, flick, WHACK, and Athos is down. And, most likely, in rather a lot of pain.

Good. Very good.

Kolya straightens, standing over his adversary and pressing one end of his combat staff into Athos' chest. It's probably a good job he's armed with nothing more, because he looks ready to knife the man.

There is little Athos can do but attempt not to tense and to minimise the damage. He manages, to an extent. Not, however, a large extent.

"Cowan said you had ceased listening to reason," Athos spits, when his breath comes back. "I would not have believed it of you, of all people."

"Ceased listening to reason?" Kolya repeats, stick still pressed into Athos' chest, intensifying the pressure just a little. "You would know all about that."

He has to resist the urge to say anything about Cowan, because he knows full-well that it will be reported back to the man if he does. But when it comes to Athos, he can be as harsh and bitter as he wants.

"Grief can do that," Athos points out spitefully, and tries to push Kolya's stick to one side.

In response, Kolya gives Athos a particularly sharp jab with the stick to keep him still. "Damn it, Athos!" he says - and there's real emotion in his voice as he does. "When are you going to accept that Idos' death _wasn't my fault_?!"

It sounds like he's said this far too many times. He has. But it still hurts.

"When it stops being your fault!" Athos yells back, trying not to cry. "You... and **him**. If you're not responsible, then HE is."

"It was never my fault!" Kolya shouts. Which he believes is true - after all, he wasn't in the Atlantis Gateroom when the then-Major Sheppard caused a scene and put the Gateshield up. He wasn't there to shoot the man and he wasn't there to deal with the matter.

He wasn't there to save Idos. In a way, he does blame himself for that, but it is more a case of regret than guilt.

"I am not responsible, and neither is Rodney McKay. And if you can't accept that - fine. Go and live in your little corner of hate. But don't expect me to do the same."

Eyes bitter, he backs off, nevertheless very surprised by what he just said. Clearly he's been even more changed by all this than was first evident.

But it was Kolya's fault. It was Kolya's fault because the people who made the mistake were under his command, and therefore responsibility. It was Kolya's fault because... because Athos trusted his son to the man. And now his son is dead.

As soon as Kolya backs off, he pulls himself up.

"If you had a son," Athos points out, "you would not be saying that. But you haven't. And you won't. The mission was under your command. That man was one of the handful of Atlanteans who ruined your operation... and now you're sleeping with him. Forgive me for not welcoming you both with open arms."

Kolya had thought he might be calming down again. But at this, he becomes quite certain that he isn't. "Jealous?" he asks, extremely unpleasantly. "Maybe things would have worked out differently if you hadn't been so damned closed-minded!"

There's a complicated expression on Athos' face for a moment, something between shock, disgust and - well, more shock, probably. "You... you egoistic... As if you could **think** this was about anything other than the fact that I turned you down!"

He looks about ready to try and smash Kolya's skull in. He's probably not that far from trying. "That has NOTHING to do with this. And to turn Idos' death into... you sicken me." He gives up speaking, looking... a lot of things. It's hard to judge.

"Face it, Athos," Kolya hisses at him, holding nothing back. "Everything between us is **defined** by the fact that you turned me down! Once it happened you could think of nothing else! And now it gives you yet another convenient reason to hate me."

"You see things where they are not, Acastus. If our relationship has been defined by that, then it's your definition, not mine. I **trusted you** with my own son. How dare you fling that into my face! You were always bitter that I didn't want you. This is all your doing, not mine."

"I respected your choice," Kolya forces himself to remind Athos. Which he did. He questioned it a lot first, of course, but ultimately he did respect it. Well. Recognise it.

"You think I wanted him to get killed?! The boy mattered a great deal to me. If I could have done something to save him I would have risked **everything** to do so. Yet I couldn't. And, yes, guilt aside, I have to live with that. You may have lost a son, but I lost over sixty men, and that bitter truth will be with me forever. But I would have thought the fact that I have finally found a way to move on would have been a clue to you to grow up and do the same!"

Oh. That was a long paragraph. Rodney must be having an effect on him.

"I should hope you would respect it, because it wasn't going to change. Isn't going to change." Athos wasn't going to change. Kolya could... well, that. All he liked. Just not with Athos.

"'Moving on'?" Athos swings for Kolya's head, madly. It's entirely possible he's lost it too. "As far as I'm concerned, it's the same as selling out to the Wraith. He was my _son_ , Acastus." Athos may be a little fixated on this point, and all of a sudden he stops trying to brain Kolya, folding in on himself, trying desperately not to sob.

As Athos brings his stick around, Kolya reacts on instinct, managing to block just in time. It isn't the most precise or graceful move, but it does prevent him getting a serious cranial injury. Although what happens next makes him wonder if a serious cranial injury might have been easier.

In all honesty, he ought to back off. But he can't. He can't, because everything he's kept bottled up over the preceding months is at the surface now, and it's too much to hold back. "Selling out to the Wraith?!" he repeats, sounding aghast. "How dare you?! I would **die** before I did anything of the sort! I know these negotiations are risky, but they're the only way to stop more of our people being killed in this rivalry with the Atlanteans! I would have thought **you** would sympathise with that!"

He pauses again. Breathes. Tries to regain control.

Idos is dead. His wife is dead. Athos' whole family has been destroyed, and the man he used to call friend hates him because he hates him because... because he likes him and because Idos is dead and...

Athos is backing off, dropping his staff with a clatter - the end catches his toes but he barely flinches. It's worrying seeing a grown man, a grown Genii break down so thoroughly all at once.

It's possibly not surprising, though, considering his whole world has fallen to pieces. "He was my _son_ ," he says again, as though it will help. "He was all I had left of her. And now they're both gone, and you are too."

Acastus already knew that. All of that. So why saying it would help was beyond him, but Athos isn't really thinking straight at all. And his head is starting to ache, now. So he does the only thing a man on the verge of sobbing can do - storms (painfully) into the changing room without taking his clothes. Because there is no way he's going into the base proper like this.

Kolya stands in almost-shocked silence whilst Athos storms off, still trying to make himself calm down and stop yelling. He isn't the sort to cry - but if he was, there's no doubt that he would be by now.

This is... just too much. Athos was his best friend. His only friend. His colleague, his ally, his confidant. The only person who really knew him. The only person he really knew in return.

And yes. For a long time, Kolya loved him. Loved everything about him. Loved the way he talked, the way he moved, and fought, and thought, and lived. Loved the way he battled on after his wife's death, raised his son, excelled at his job.

Everything. And the day he finally told Athos the truth is another that Kolya will carry forever; another deep emotional scar. Even when he and Athos were able to go back to some semblance of normalcy, it had been clear that things between them would never be the same.

Then came Atlantis. Then came Idos' death.

Kolya can still remember the moment so incredibly clearly... the moment he learned that Idos was dead. The moment he realised that he was going to lose Athos again.

He can't bear it. Can't bear the memory for any more than seconds. Can't even look at the rain without remembering. Living in a bunker helps a little there, of course. But only a little.

Standing in perfect silence for a moment, Kolya tries to centre himself. Tries to think clearly. And then, without really thinking about what he's doing, he walks slowly after Athos, leaving his stick against the wall as he goes.

Part of him knows he ought to just leave the man, leave the room, and walk away.

But he doesn't. He can't.

A moment later, he's standing in the doorway to the changing room, expression... complicated.

"I'm sorry," he says, quietly. "I'm sorry I couldn't save him."

Athos has his eyes closed, head into the wall, hands bunched into fists pushed into gunmetal grey. If he had his gun on him, his hands would be on the handgrip. If he had a sword and knew anything about Roman custom, now would be the time he would throw himself on it.

Briefly, he wonders if Cowan has something terribly heroic and terribly suicidal he could volunteer himself for, and at least go out doing something helpful.

But he can't. And he won't. And he doesn't. Instead, he claws the wall briefly, presses his hands over his eyes, drags fingers through his hair and looks at the join between ceiling and wall intently.

"He shouldn't have died. Neither should his mother. This... all of this. And now we don't even have time to attack before the Wraith wake up. And he's..." Athos looks at Kolya, eyes demanding solace. "Tell me he won't die for nothing. Tell me that with them, we can win. Or it's all been for nothing, and I can't have that."

This is beyond complicated now. Beyond challenging. Beyond... well, anything, really. And Kolya simply is not good at dealing with serious emotional matters - though he is getting better at it, what with all the practice recent events have offered.

He's never sure what to think about Athos. Sometimes he hates the man without question - the man who couldn't just turn him down graciously and try to get on with things. The man who made a terrible situation worse by adding a very personal layer to it.

But it's _Athos_. And though Kolya most definitely does not love him anymore, he still cares... deep, deep down. He is capable of caring, rare though such a thing may be.

Time for another long breath. "He didn't die for nothing. He died in the ongoing struggle to ensure the survival of our people, and that is worthy of respect. And yes. I believe that with them, we can win. If anyone can stand against the Wraith... it is the people of Atlantis."

It must be so very strange to hear him talk like this. Amazing what twenty-four hours on a dinosaur planet can do for one's priorities.

"Just... don't ask me to ever, ever talk to a single one of them," Athos says, then looks away.

Athos has nothing more to say. There is nothing more to say, as far as he's concerned. It won't be his family that their efforts are for. Not any more. And although he wants to kill every single person on Atlantis - it's hard to palate, but if working with them stops anyone else losing wives and sons, then the choice is the right one.

He walks past Kolya without looking at him, fully intending to not look back once.

Kolya stays in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe, head bowed, and doesn't speak until Athos has passed him. Part of him wants to say nothing, to let the man just walk away, but at the same time, he can't let this go. Can't let Athos go. If he does... it might be forever.

"We were friends for so long," he says, without turning. "Is all that meaningless now?"

Athos stops, but he does not turn. He cannot. "Merre was always fond of you, and Idos thought of you as family," he says, voice carefully slow. Then he looks at him. "You are the only family I have, now. But I cannot look at you without pain."

He looks away again. "It dulls with time, you know. You hate yourself for it, a little less each day, until it's only momentary and you can live days and weeks and months without thinking about it."

"I... need to think." He waits, on the threshold, waits for some sign that... anything, really. He's tired. So very tired.

It's odd, but at almost exactly the same moment as Athos turns to look at Kolya, Kolya turns to look at Athos. "I know," he says, voice almost a whisper, and only just steady. "Believe me, I know."

And then he says no more. He wants to, so very badly. But all of a sudden, he realises he can't.

Before... before anything... it...

Athos makes to leave. The room hurts too much to be in, and though words try to reach his mouth, they don't. So he walks. Because there's nothing else to do.

And Kolya watches Athos go.

Again.

He hears the footsteps, sees the movement, stands and waits until the door clicks shut and he is alone.

There's a moment - a very brief, very fleeting moment - when he's right on the brink. Completely, utterly on the brink. And then he pulls himself back, forcing himself to throw up several mental walls to keep himself away from that edge again.

For several minutes, he just stands, staring at nothingness, until all he feels is numb. It's safer this way. Safer to cut himself off and not allow all that emotion to set in for too long. Eventually, he changes back into his uniform, and returns to his quarters, walking the familiar corridors in a blank haze.

Once in his room, he heads straight for the shower. Normally, he's not the type to linger - but this time, he finds himself standing under the vaguely warm water for what seems like an age. It might be more understandable if he was thinking, but he isn't. He continues to not think as he dresses again, re-makes his bed, puts away the book that Rodney left out.

Rodney. He needs to see Rodney now. He needs to see someone who wants to see him, and he needs not to think about anything else.

Kolya wonders how long he's been gone for. What with all this walking, talking, fighting and… not thinking, it must have been a while. It would have helped if he'd had some idea of the time in the first place.

Resolute, he sets off for the science departments, using his last few moments alone to get his emotions in check. Or, at least, trying to. Eventually, he's back at the door to Jerran's lab, opening it at once.

Rodney and Jerran are staring at a print-out of some sort, intent on finding something amidst the mass of seemingly senseless data. Rodney is accustomed to not looking up when he's occupied - something he's sometimes tried to overcome in Atlantis, a little, as he knows it is rude and sometimes it's Elizabeth. It takes him a minute to remember where he is and what's been happening, and then recent events intrude upon his consciousness at once and he looks up in case it's Kolya.

Which it is.

Only. Not quite.

"You're back," he says, because saying ‘hi’ seems... actually, nothing jumps to his assistance, and with another person in the room and... Rodney's been around Kolya enough to have a rudimentary understanding of Kolya-ese. He frowns. "Problems?"

"No," Kolya lies at once. It's such a blatantly obvious lie that he doubts Rodney will miss it, but if they're going to have _that_ Conversation, it is not going to be in front of Jerran. And it certainly isn't going to be here.

"I trust there have been no problems?" It's hard to be sure whether this is directed at Rodney or Jerran, but in all honesty, Kolya probably doesn't mind who answers.

"The Genii have a disturbing lack of anything resembling coffee," Rodney carries on in a too-normal tone that wants for tact. It also comes out too fast. "I will have to make the people up there," he points to the ceiling, "grow it next to the tava."

"Apart from that and a woeful lack of funding and equipment..." Rodney rubs his hands together. Jerran couldn't have put a word in edgeways up till now if he'd wanted to. He merely looks long-suffering. Working with Rodney can do that to a man.

"So. Call it a day?"

Jerran gives Rodney a nod. "All right. No doubt I'll be seeing you tomorrow." Though it's entirely possible the latter half of this remark is directed as much at Kolya as it is at Rodney.

"Come on," Kolya says to Rodney. "I need to talk to you."

He moves almost at once, heading back for the door - his eagerness to leave also very obvious.

"Uh. Tomorrow. Yes." Rodney's response is distant, and then he's already following close at Kolya's heel. Almost but not quite behind him. Almost but not quite level.

"I haven't caused trouble, have I?"

"No," Kolya tells him as they walk. "But there have been... developments."

Oh. So that's how he's putting it? His boss thinks he's lost his mind and his ex-best friend tried to cave his head in with a stick and then promptly had an emotional breakdown.

How was your afternoon?

"Oh. Good. Well, that it isn't me, I mean. Not that it's good that we need to talk. Although talking can be good."

Pace, pace, pace. "I should stop talking until we get wherever we're going, shouldn't I?"

"That... might be wise," Kolya states, though his tone isn't hostile. Whether or not Rodney can actually stay quiet that long is another matter entirely, of course.

As for the doctor's other remark, he chooses not to respond. Because this talking... well. It is unlikely to be fun. Why does life insist on constantly being so difficult?

"Are we going far?" Rodney asks, after a while. It isn't really talking. It's talking about talking. Meta-talking. And preparation. For if it's going to be talking in his cell then he needs to know. Or if it's going to be in front of some judge and jury. Or...

"Not that I mind. Going far. It's... where are we going?"

"We're returning to my quarters." Which they are. It's the only place Kolya can be certain no one will interrupt them. Besides, he's still fighting to keep emotional control, and if they don't stay away from Other People, he can't guarantee not losing it with wall-slamming intensity.

His current emotional state is very clear. He's walking fast, as in, hurrying-round-Dagan fast. But without the coat.

"Right." And Rodney says nothing more. He can do quiet. Even if he is rather worried.

Kolya just walks. He knows he ought to say something, maybe even something reassuring, but he can't. Not here. Not yet. So he continues on in silence, with Rodney at his heels, trying not to give the impression that things are Not Going Well.

This is, naturally, not easy.

Eventually - at a point where even the commander thinks the silence is rather uncomfortable - they make it back to Kolya's quarters in the relevant residential block. He opens the door at once, following Rodney inside, before closing the door again.

And then? Ironically enough, he doesn't say anything.

Rodney's now extremely uncomfortable. He knows enough to know that Kolya isn't happy and it isn't entirely his fault. But if they have to talk, it must be bad. He frets, hands moving rapidly.

"...is there... something I can do? Or... something?"

Pacing would be bad. But standing is difficult and sitting down is out of the question.

Right. May as well get the - ha - easy bit over with first. "I spoke to Cowan. He was... difficult." The bitterness in Kolya's voice is fairly obvious. Maybe he's just not trying hard enough to hold it back, or maybe he actually wants Rodney to see it.

"In the end, I was able to persuade him that I know what I'm doing in this whole situation..." Well. Sort of. "But he emphasised that... if you were to do something underhand, I'd have to take the fall with you." It's hard not to make this sound like a _don't-you-dare-do-anything-that-might-get-me-arrested_ statement, though he does try.

"He didn't mention the negotiations, so I assume that nothing of note has happened yet."

The commander manages to stay still whilst he's talking, although he too can feel the urge to pace rising once more.

"Right. So, don't blow up a lab or maim that... Jerome... or anything you wouldn't do. Right." Rodney nods, solemnly. He can do that, yes.

"So. Negotiations later, behave now... What else?"

"I..."

Kolya's voice actually trails off at this. He takes a deep breath, paces across the room (closer to his weapon-covered wall, because it makes him feel better) and then turns. This is not going to be easy. Oh no. But if he doesn't tell Rodney exactly _why_ he's suddenly extremely unhappy, the doctor could easily misunderstand.

And that could be bad.

"I ran into an old... acquaintance of mine whilst I was down in the training room again. Athos Leontis."

Rodney is not exactly the most calm and collected of people. He is also not the most optimistic of people. And he is very much feeling the negative energy in the room, and it's making him fretful.

And this sounds so easily like something Rodney really doesn't want to hear. Sorry, I've just realised, I don't actually like men. Don't know what came over me, turned all gay for a few hours, but he's set me back on the straight road now, no pun intended. Or, no, I'm still gay. Just not with you. Or...

There's a hundred ways this could be bad. Rodney ducks his head unhappily and sits down. "So... What?"

Kolya can tell that Rodney is worried. He knows and he doesn't want this to be the case - because Rodney is one of the very few things currently giving Kolya reason to live. Very good reason.

Part of him - a small, long-hidden part that still remembers what it was like to have someone he actually felt able to talk to - wants to tell the whole story. But that would not be wise. If nothing else, it would open some very old wounds, for both of them.

And yet... if he doesn't explain this properly, it will lead to misunderstanding and confusion. Which is also bad.

Life never used to be so complicated.

He pauses for a moment, mentally debating all of this, and then sits on the bed beside Rodney. Again. It seems to be what they do when it's time for a Really Serious Conversation.

"Athos and I worked together for many years. We were... close." Most definitely not close enough, though that is well beside the point, permanently. "But then we had a... personal disagreement, and whilst still trying to deal with it, his son was killed." A pause. A long, long pause. "His son was killed during our mission to Atlantis."

Oh. That is possibly one of the hardest sentences Kolya has had to speak of late. Which is really saying something.

"Ever since then, Athos has hated me because he holds me responsible. We had not talked in some time - and then we ran into each other."

He doesn't want to go any further than this, and so falls silent, staring at the floor. It's a mark of how very badly affected he is that he doesn't even think duelling would help right about now.

"Oh." Funny how much you can say with an interjection like that. It isn't even really a part of speech at all. Which makes sense, in a way, because what Rodney's voicing doesn't really have words. Not good ones.

"So... I take it he... right. Stay out of his way. Right. Uh. For what it's worth, and I know it isn't really worth much, I'm sorry and I'm sure Colonel Sheppard is too. It's one of those more in common with the enemy than... something. Officers? I forget."

A pause, thinking. "Actually I never thought war made much of any sort of sense,” he adds.

Rodney tries to look at him. He's trying very hard to work out what Kolya needs him to do. "Uh. I'm not very good with the... making people feel better thing. Mostly I make people miserable and cranky. Or jealous. Or both. But... if you want to tell me what happened, you can. Or, I can just be quiet and not talk about it if that's better."

Awkwardly, he pats Kolya's knee. And then realises how trite the gesture is, so he leaves his hand there instead and squeezes slightly. And then waits. And looks. And listens, in that earnest trying-to-understand way.

"I... doubt you will run into him." Kolya's fairly sure of this... unless, of course, Cowan has Athos spying on him and... Oh. This is exactly the sort of thing the bastard would do - play both of them off each other. And it helps to explain their sudden, rather convenient meeting...

_Wonderful_.

"If you do, be careful. I don't know what motivations he may be acting on. Believe me, there are a number of possibilities."

Then there's a somewhat difficult silence, in which Kolya tries very hard to avoid any kind of discussion about Atlantis. But he does look up, acknowledging what has been said. Because. He feels he ought to.

And he's starting to realise what the other emotion rising in his chest is. Gratitude. Gratitude that he's got Rodney, who genuinely seems to care. Who wants to help him, not push him under.

Who is capable of forgiveness. Unlike Athos.

Kolya turns, making eye-contact, hand up to tilt Rodney's head as he leans closer and kisses him. It's a kiss that speaks volumes - full not only of gratitude, but of desperation, of pain and confliction and quite possibly some flicker of self-doubt too.

He's convinced he's handling this wrong. Maybe he ought to tell the whole wretched story. Maybe he ought to kiss Rodney some more.

Ah. Looks like denial is back again.

Because that warning doesn't sound ominous. Oh no. Rodney gives a nervous sort of laugh, thinking - oh god, Athos is going to kill me. He tries not to look terrified at the prospect.

Rodney's hand stays on Kolya's knee, because that's where it wants to be. His other hand comes up to rest on the side of Kolya's face, so that even when they break he has contact. And they do. Eventually.

He feels vaguely guilty that they aren't talking. Not talking leads to worry and doubt and unhappiness and things. But so does talking. And to be honest, he's really not good at talking about other peoples' problems.

"Things will work out," he says, somewhat apropos of nothing. "Million to one chances. All the time. Like existing at all and then coming to this galaxy and... all sorts of things. My people are... charmed."

Which is Rodney's idea of reassurance. "Things are going better than I worried already," he adds. Looks at him quizzically. "Although now I've probably doomed us by saying that. Sorry."

Rodney McKay being _this_ positive? Kolya realises how very... readable he must be right now. Under normal circumstances, the thought alone would be reason enough to force himself to be more focused. Less obvious. Anything you give away can be used against you.

But not here. Not now.

And Rodney's words bring a very genuine smile to the commander's lips - albeit one that is clearly affected by a convoluted headful of too many emotions. "I hope you're right."

Because far too many things have gone wrong in recent months. Far too many. If this does as well...

"Really. Technically we should have died as soon as we came here anyway. Well, to one extent we did but that was another timeline. And then we should never have escaped being wiped out by the Wraith. And even before that in our own galaxy we accidentally ended up in the middle of an inter-stellar... well, war, basically, where people were being used as slaves and we had no technology whatsoever. Not in comparison. But Colonel Carter and me and a few other people stopped my entire planet being wiped out - on numerous occasions, I might add..."

Which is when he realises he's been babbling, and shakes his head. This is why he doesn’t usually attempt to talk people better. But somehow he can’t stop trying.

"Whatever happens we can't be anywhere near as dysfunctional as my parents. And I'm sure that... Athos... will... okay I really don't know the man but if he's the kind of person you do want to be around then... whatever's the matter will eventually stop. I'm not helping, am I?"

Rodney closes his eyes and leans his head forward onto Kolya's, partially to avoid eye-contact, partially because... well. Many, many touch-starved years. "I've been around that... that... friend of yours all day. He's even more impossible to talk to than you." Which is... not entirely true, but is, in a way.

Kolya lets Rodney talk for the moment, as the Very Long Paragraph in question doesn't sound particularly distress-fuelled and is probably innocent enough. Most of it fails to make a great deal of contextual sense, although the overall picture seems clear:

The people of Atlantis are good at surviving. Though Kolya already knew that.

"You're helping," he says, rather quietly. Which is true. Even if he does feel a little beyond most help right now. "And as for Athos..." The recurrence of the man's name warrants a careful pause. "...I did want him around. I still do, in a way. But I am beginning to doubt that will ever happen."

And then, forehead-to-forehead with Rodney, Kolya closes his eyes too, feeling suddenly... calmer. It's a testament to this that he doesn't move or re-open his eyes when he speaks again. "Jerran? He'll open up to you eventually. I think he's currently being rather careful because... when I first started talking to him, and he wasn't entirely impressed with the idea, I might have given him the impression that upsetting me could prove unwise."

'Unwise' is an understatement. His precise words - which Rodney does NOT need to hear - were something along the lines of 'cause me any trouble and I will turn up in the middle of the night and show you just _why_ I get all the difficult interrogation assignments.'

But he'd been under a lot of stress at the time. Of course.

"That... happens," Rodney says. "I know it sounds a bit lame and like stating the obvious, but it's true. Maybe you should give it some time so you both think about... things. Oh, I don't know."

Then Jerran. "Oh, he talks alright," Rodney goes on, apparently unperturbed by Kolya admitting to intimidating the man. He knew he'd do that anyway. "He just doesn't seem to like me very much and he's not experienced in the fields I'm most interested in so talking work with him is mostly boring."

"And if I upset him, he doesn't yell."

Rodney lets that sit for a while. People who don't talk back bore him… as much as he thinks everyone should agree with him, when it happens he's sort of left without anything to do.

"I expect I'll irritate him enough sooner or later. Maybe by throwing balled paper at his head, as insulting his intelligence doesn't seem to affect him."

Choosing to let the discussion about Athos drop feels like a good idea right about now, and so Kolya doesn't say any more for the moment. Though he now has a rather ominous feeling that the issue is not one that will helpfully go away.

"Please try not to drive Jerran into a breakdown," Kolya says, though there's a slight touch of amusement to his voice. "Finding a replacement at short notice would be challenging. And he is, after all, making it possible for me to keep you out of prison."

Well. Jerran, some serious dealing with Cowan, and a swathe of risk-taking incidents. Talk about determination.

"Not being in prison is very important, yes, but boring me to death with people lacking any personality whatsoever..." Rodney lets that trail.

"And I've only ever really caused one co-worker to have a nervous breakdown. Oh, and a teacher. Or three. But that doesn't count."

Rodney shifts a little on the bed, turning so unless Kolya moves, his chin will be on Rodney's shoulder. He has no intention of stopping the touching thing, because when he's not being panicky about whether he should or not, it's nice.

"I didn't really say thanks for that. I mean, I know it probably got you in a lot of trouble breaking me out. I have no intention of doing anything - much - that would get us into more though."

Shifting position too, Kolya decides that he also isn't going to get into a long discussion about Jerran - and how best to talk to the man - because he's got far too much on his mind to be attempting an explanation of the scientist's psyche.

"You're welcome," he replies, instead. "Though I did not so much break you out as... borrow you and neglect to take you back."

And then, a slight smirk crosses his face. "'Anything _much_ ,'" he repeats. "So what **do** you have the intention of doing?"

"I don't. That's the point. Things... tend to happen." He grins. "Not intentionally."

Kolya's smirk broadens. "So you often find yourself facing the... unexpected?"

This would be the point at which one might _expect_ Kolya to do something a little unexpected, if only because it would accompany that statement so well. But that, of course, would make the 'unexpected' expected. And thus defeat the objective. Mostly.

As such, he doesn't move - though there is a notable Look in his eyes now. If anyone but Rodney was on the receiving end of such a Look, it would be wise to warn them to take cover.

But not Rodney. That would also defeat the objective.

"Well, most things are due to a long string of unlikely events anyway." Which sounds calm and normal. Mostly.

"The unexpected has this way of... sometimes being really, really good."

"Oh yes," Kolya agrees, looking positively devious now. "It does."

He still doesn't move, though. Yet.

Rodney is beginning to get... nervous? He laughs, and it sounds a nervous laugh.

But not entirely in a bad way.

"So."

For about five seconds, Kolya remains perfectly still, perfectly calm - though with a distinct 'coiled spring' edge to his not-moving.

And then? He moves, naturally, flipping Rodney backwards with sudden, if careful, force and coming to rest right beside him - close enough to match the brisk, firm movement with a brisk, firm kiss.

There are three reasons for his action, though only two are obvious. One, he likes doing things like this. Two, he _really_ likes doing things like this. And three... he might just be delaying the somewhat more challenging task that crossed his mind a few minutes ago... something he said to Cowan but has not yet said to Rodney.

He wonders if Rodney will find **that** unexpected. When he says it. 'When.' Not 'if.'

Rodney actually laughs. It's been far too long since he last laughed properly, but with... everything, it hasn't been appropriate. But for now, he can. And actually, taking a few weeks off from saving the world and just living between a lab and Kolya's bed is... actually a rather nice break, now he isn't fretting about being sent back to his cell anytime soon.

And he might have more than a slight streak of mischief, which would be why he's currently grabbing Kolya's hands and shoving _them_ over his head as he kisses him back.

"I was expecting _that_ , though."

Seemingly unperturbed, Kolya gives him an outright flirtatious grin. "Oh, I know," he says, lightly. "But that doesn't stop it being... enjoyable."

Which it is. Very.

So Rodney straddles him, making a fair amount of show about it. And bending to kiss his neck. And, for seemingly no reason, to bite him fairly gently in the curve to his shoulder - mainly to see what happens.

"I would let you know if it wasn't."

Ordinarily, Kolya would be unlikely to lie like this for any notable amount of time - considering that he has a long-running tendency to be the one doing the pinning, and not the other way around. But he's willing to make a few concessions where Rodney's concerned.

A few. And he can always enforce a change of position if he really wants to. For now, all of this is rather too nice to warrant the effort that would be required.

His eyes flicker, unspoken words still hiding behind them.

"I know that, too," he says. "You are, without a doubt, the most vociferous person I have ever met."

"Just so you know, I'm going to take that as a compliment," Rodney informs him, moving so that he's holding Kolya's hands, loosely, with just one of his own. His other hand has all sorts of interesting places it could be going, now. All sorts of fasteners to unfasten so Rodney can kiss other parts of Kolya.

Rodney doesn't really have that much of a definite modus operandi when he comes to this, but something suggests this course of action now, and he isn't about to ignore it.

It was easy to say before. Why can't he say it now? Eventually, Kolya realises that he must be starting to look a little conflicted, and uses this to force himself to speak.

Even now... still not good with the whole emotional-honesty issue.

"There's something I really ought to tell you," he says.

Oh, good start. Can you make it sound any _more_ ominous?

"Don't worry, a friend of mine in college kept a crossbow under their bed."

This would probably seem like a non-sequitur to most people, and Rodney's not even thinking about it as he says it, too busy letting go of Kolya's hands to trace his fingertips over his collarbones and down, happily mapping out territory in an unmistakeably, if somewhat sublimated, possessive fashion.

"You already know what I keep _in_ mine," Kolya replies, in a momentary re-appearance of his rather knowing smirk. "But that wasn't what I meant."

He's really not very good at this. And it's difficult to keep his mind focused on the task in hand when Rodney is doing _that_.

"Well, yes, I got bored when you went to find Jerran," Rodney points out, nipping his ear gently and putting cold hands on Kolya's stomach. "I can't say I was surprised."

"What, then? Am I being too slow?" No one could accuse _that_ particular handful of being 'slow'. It is entirely possible he's being annoying on purpose. Well. Entirely true.

"No. Not at all," Kolya tells him, in between drawing a rather deep, rather contented breath.

A pause. Careful. Measured. Telling.

"What I need to say is this:"

Another pause. Shorter. Even more telling.

"...I love you."

He wanted to make it more elaborate than that, more careful and complex. But in the moment, just saying it seemed the right thing to do.

Rodney just sort of... stares. Because. It's a very weird thing to say. Something sickening college couples and people on the television or silver screen say.

And Rodney isn't entirely sure how to respond. Actually, doing _anything_ right now seems nigh-on impossible.

He laughs again, but it's somewhat panicked. "You don't need to say that to make me put out, you know," he says, tone all... strange. "Not that I'm easy, of course. No."

Oh dear. Kolya feels that he really hasn't chosen the best way to deal with this, and now Rodney is reacting badly again.

Life is so much easier when you have nothing more to worry about than hitting people with sticks or threatening them with knives. Less fun, though, which is saying something.

He hasn't moved his hands since Rodney let go of them, but Kolya raises one now, fingers brushing along the doctor's cheek. "I'm just telling you," he says, quietly, carefully. "There's no other motivation behind it. I just... wanted you to know."

And yes, he's still rattled by having had to tell his boss the truth long before he told Rodney - though that doesn't need to be said. Hopefully.

“Right. Right. Sorry. You must think me a complete ass."

Because. Because.

"Sorry, I'm just not used to this. Which is a lame excuse..." A long, shuddery breath. He's been entirely knocked off his stride. He's also highly confused. "I... don't think I can say anything about that right now - god, doesn't this sound bad. What I mean is I... "

Rodney sits back, one hand resting on his knee the other dragging through his hair. Then, as though he's been fighting the impulse, he grabs Kolya's open shirt and yanks him up high enough to kiss. Because. That's better than rambling and making a fool of yourself. And the... thought type stuff? Can so wait.

Kolya is about to attempt to say something when Rodney does **that** , and all desire - and, of course, capability - for speech goes out the metaphorical window. He raises one hand, fingers brushing through the doctor's hair, grasping the back of his head. And then, after a moment, he pulls them both down onto the bed again, not allowing the action to break the kiss.

No matter how much he needs to breathe.

There's a lot to be said for the fine art of not actually undressing much. It means one tends to have to have one's clothes cleaned slightly more frequently than if one did undress, but cleanliness is next to godliness.

Oh. And Rodney's really, **really** impatient.

It's a good thing no one does their laundry for them, really. Before long, people would start to pass comment...

It's possible they already have.

***

It's interesting to note how easy it is for something to become habit. Like, having to take two showers in a morning. Or other things.

Not this morning though. This morning Acastus had to leave early and Rodney was left at a bit of a loose end, puttering around the other man's room. He already knows exactly where everything is from weeks and weeks of lifting and shuffling, so there's no point in exploring again. There's nothing to occupy him, nothing that needs doing – just to sit and wait for Kolya to come back, and to hope he comes back before Jerran fetches him for work. If Rodney doesn't hear what is so vitally important, he'll be pissy for the rest of the day.

With nothing else to do, he sits down with a pad and paper and starts to note things.

You might think that several weeks spent living with Rodney McKay would have some deep effect on Kolya's psyche. It hasn't - at least, not visibly. He's spent the time continuing his life - albeit a life that tends to involve much more interesting evenings than he used to have. His subordinates have managed to get to the point where they know no amount of asking awkward questions will get them anything more than an additional set of bruises during duelling. Cowan now seems able to have conversations with Kolya without looking murderous. Just somewhat unpleasant. But he so often looks like that, so it's hard to tell.

Though still not operating on the normal duty roster, and confined to the planet, Kolya has been fairly busy - training, duelling, and, on occasion, utilising some of his more specialised skills. He avoids mentioning these activities to Rodney - because that's a line of conversation he wants to hold off for as long as possible - although he's fairly sure Rodney is aware of some of it.

This particular morning, the commander finds himself summoned to see Cowan at a notably early hour. Which either means Cowan wants to yell at him, wants him to do something particularly serious, or has important news.

Kolya's return to his quarters after only a short while is enough to rule out the middle option. Which of the other two it is remains to be seen.

Rodney looks up when he hears someone else, actually interested in who it is, for once. It isn't as though he's had a great deal of interaction with the Genii people as a whole. A lot - lot - of interaction with certain parts of the Genii, but that's beside the point. So a little doubt is welcome.

"So?" he asks, more or less as soon as Kolya enters.

Let's be completely honest here: the commander looks quite genuinely surprised about something. He shuts the door - some things never change - staring at Rodney.

"There has been a development."

He pauses. It's hard to know exactly why, though there are a number of possibilities, and not all of them are good.

"The negotiations with your people have progressed. It is expected that a formal deal will be signed within a couple of days."

Rodney stands up. It's clear he was worried. It's also clear that he's relieved - no trouble means his position is likely to become less precarious. And. And he can go home - or can, eventually.

He's already smiling by the time the other shoe drops and he realises that certain other things he's been ignoring as best he can are now... problematic.

"Any idea about the... conditions?"

Kolya looks very much like he wants to pace. He doesn't, though only just.

"I don't know all the details, yet, though Cowan is planning to... return you to your people at the final signing of the deal. I believe the alliance will be a... careful one. And no doubt there will be some system put in place to allow our two sides to liase."

The commander has more than a slight suspicion that Cowan plans to make him the first Liaison to Atlantis. Which, whilst helpful in seeing Rodney, will also involve...

He's not thinking about it. Not now. Denial is a wonderful thing. He does, however, seem a lot less happy than one might expect; convinced as he now is that he'll lose Rodney when the deal goes through.

Which itself explains why he's got that 'need-to-hit-someone-with-a-stick' look in his eyes again.

Rodney is being considerate, which is why he isn't rejoicing in the fact that he's soon going to be caffeinated, on his orthopaedic mattress, behind his own laptop and around his own people. After this long of being dead to them... it will seem strange.

Rodney gets up, but seems somewhat torn. The opportunity and possibility had always been there somewhere, but it had just been easier to not think too hard about it. And now he doesn't know what to say.

"If coming to Atlantis would be awkward - well it will be awkward, but I mean to say if it's too awkward... I won't be offended if you don't want to come often. Here it's different. And while the same four walls and Jerran will drive me insane over extended periods of time... well."

This statement does not exactly work the way Rodney is likely to have intended, and Kolya continues to look really rather unhappy - though it's only obvious if you know him well enough.

"I don't want to lose you," he says. "I can't. Not now." It's possibly one of the most bluntly honest things he's said - which is notable in itself, considering the events of the past few weeks.

"What? I was... Okay. I see. I meant, if going to Atlantis and seeing Elizabeth and Colonel Sheppard would be too... awkward for you, then I wouldn't expect you to. Not that I don't want you to come."

Rodney paces a little. "It's… it will be difficult to start with, but I'm sure people will learn to tolerate one another at the very least. I'm not going anywhere. Well, I am, but I will be back if your people will let me."

This is a very important point indeed. Kolya does not want to see a certain Colonel ever again. He thinks he will probably be able to deal with Elizabeth - past events aside - but Sheppard? Any kind of truce beyond a mutual acceptance that they can no longer try to kill each other seems unlikely.

But Kolya also does not want to lose Rodney. And if that means facing difficult situations... he will. Without question. "I will not let your... colleagues' opinions of me prevent the two of us getting time together," he states, resolutely. "And, believe me, I will make sure you are allowed back here whenever possible. No matter what Cowan thinks."

"If all else fails," Rodney says, laughing a little nervously, "we could always go back to the Planet of the Dinosaurs for some respite."

Kolya almost laughs too at this, though the look in his eyes remains serious. "You're right," he says. "We could."

Ironically, he probably means it.

"He didn't say... precisely when?"

"Eager for another trip to the Planet of the Dinosaurs?" Kolya asks, with a distinct smirk. It's possible he's avoiding the actual question, but he might just be trying to lighten the mood. It's still hard to tell.

"If for 'eager' you mean 'horrified by the very thought', then yes."

This earns the good doctor a Look. "That does not mean 'no,'" Kolya points out.

"That means 'I would much rather show you the balconies in the daytime and then educate you in the ways of retiring for the night in the city of the Ancients'. Oh, and 'introduce you to coffee.'"

"Ah well. You can still change your mind. And... two days. The deal is expected to be signed in two days. Assuming nothing serious happens in the interim," Kolya replies.

"Trust me, I know many places that are much better if we have to run off on horseback or something. Much. Much better." And then, Rodney doesn't know what to say. "Are... will you be there?"

Kolya nods. "I will. Cowan wants your people fully aware that I was the one who saved your life."

Which, in a way, Kolya agrees with. Though his own interest lies more in being able to look John Sheppard in the eye and know that they are at last even over the Dagan incident.

"I was going to tell them anyway," Rodney admits. "It's going to be... interesting, if nothing else."

Still a little awkward, he leans over to kiss Kolya slowly on the cheek. And squeeze his hand. Because he can.

This is... nice. So, so nice. And Kolya is going to miss it... going to miss waking up every morning to find Rodney still there. Even if it all works out and they can still see each other frequently, it just... won't be the same.

Just as Kolya is about to say something else, there's a knock at the door. "Come in," the commander calls, knowing full-well that it's going to be Jerran. The man is so very punctual.

Sure enough, the door opens, and Jerran steps into the room. His expression is instantly careful - he clearly knows he's walked in on a Moment, and the scientist looks a little awkward.

Rodney seems entirely unbothered by the intrusion. After all, it isn't like they've been keeping it a secret.

"You won't have to put up with me for much longer, Jerran. Isn't that great?" Maybe he should put the commander down...

Jerran keeps a very level expression, standing with his hands behind his back in a tell-me-to-leave-or-hurry-up kind of posture. He obviously makes a conscious decision not to respond, despite seeming to have something in mind that could be said.

Kolya, meanwhile, keeps his attention on Rodney. "You should go," he says. "I'm due in the training rooms imminently, anyway."

"Right. You'll be around tonight, though?"

The commander gives him a slight smirk. "Naturally."

Jerran continues to look as though he wants the underground to open up and swallow him. Or possibly just leave him with a suitable concussion.

Rodney McKay is a bit of a bastard. Well, a lot really. So he kisses Kolya firmly before he lets go fully, then walks over to Jerran.

"Right. Today, then."

Kolya looks extremely pleased with himself. Jerran, however, moves from awkward to mildly homicidal. Which is quite a feat for someone of his mindset.

"Yes," the scientist says, in very clipped tones, as Rodney finally walks over to him. "Today. Come on."

And he sets off out of the room at once.

Rodney follows without looking back, and is on Jerran's heels immediately.

"Look at it this way, you will be rid of me soon," he says, loudly. "And I've a favour to ask you. If you agree, I'll spend the rest of my time here in Acastus' room and you won't have to babysit me at all."

Jerran sighs in a so-not-thinking kind of way, and when he speaks, there's a certain amount of resignation in his tone. "What is it you want?"

"I want to see Athos."

Of all the things. _Of all the things!_

Jerran stops dead, staring at Rodney with a you-are-INSANE look in his eyes. "You want what?!" he exclaims. Despite not knowing half of the details as to what exactly happened between Kolya and Athos, Jerran knows enough to be well aware that this is BAD.

"I want to see Athos. Look, you don't need to understand, just take me to him."

"Fine. Fine. But whatever happens, you're taking responsibility for it. I don't want either Commander Leontis or Commander Kolya coming down on me for this."

"Don't worry. I'll exonerate you. As long as you get me back to his room afterwards, you can forget you ever saw me."

The Genii scientist shakes his head, then holds up his hands. "Fine," he says again.

And then he sets off, mentally running through the places where the commander is likely to be. Hmmm. His best bet is to head for one of the guard posts and ask them.

Oh. This is not going to look good. Not at all.

Rodney just follows. Mentally, he's running through what he can say that won't end up with him hospitalised. Again.

It would not look good if he was sent home in plaster.

Eventually, they come to a stairwell, and descend two levels - quickly coming face-to-face with a door flanked by a pair of guards. Both regard Jerran - and Rodney - with deep suspicion. "Yes?" one asks, a little shortly.

"I'm looking for Commander Leontis," Jerran says, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

"Why?"

"Because I need to talk to him." No need for specifics.

The guards exchange a Look. "All right," the first one says. "He's in Prison Block D, next floor down."

"Thank you."

Jerran hurries off again, now leading Rodney down another flight of stairs. Prison Block D. This is not good. Jerran knows full-well what they do in D-Block. But if Doctor McKay is so insistent...

A moment later, they're emerging from the stairwell, onto a level that looks even more foreboding than the last one, and moving down another corridor. Hmmm. So where might Leontis be..?

Very suddenly, a door up ahead swings open, and a tall, khaki-clad man steps out into the passageway, knife in hand. He glances at the guards flanking the door in question, gesturing back into the room he just left. "I'll be gone ten minutes. Keep him company until I return."

The guards nod, then go into the room, and the man turns. Walks three paces. Sees the pair standing at the other end of the corridor and stops **dead**.

" **You** ," Athos Leontis growls.

Rodney looks at Jerran. "I'll be okay now, thanks."

Then he looks at Athos. "Commander. I was wondering if I could speak to you in private. I have a few things to say. Just let me say them, then... well. Whatever you see fit." It's Rodney's I'm Being Brave face. His jaw twitches ever so slightly.

Jerran doesn't need telling twice. "I'll wait for you in the stairwell," he says, and hurries off immediately.

Athos, meanwhile, continues to glare at Rodney, advancing on him at the same time. For a moment, it looks like he's going to take a swing in the doctor's direction, but then a cold, controlled look comes to his eyes. "In here," he says, pointing at the nearest door, and then grabbing Rodney's arm without a pause, moving to virtually drag him into the room in question.

It is, of course, another interrogation chamber, albeit a currently empty one. And as Athos is not going to have any kind of conversation until they're alone, it will have to do.

Rodney doesn't protest as he's manhandled, which is saying something. Saying rather a lot. He waits until they are in and the door is closed - something he's accustomed to now, after living with Acastus all this time, and then he holds his hands up and drops his head down a little, not making much eye-contact, but keeping his focus on Athos.

One might, if one did not know Rodney better, think that he was... being ingratiating.

"Look. I take it you know who I am and I know who you are, and I know what happened, but before you attempt to kill me slowly and painfully, I just want to say a few things."

"I'm... I'm sorry your son died. I am. I didn't want anyone on either side to die, and I know that doesn't mean much and it doesn't make a difference and I wasn't even responsible in any way either, because I was nowhere near when it happened and I couldn't have stopped it even if I knew it was happening."

"I should... I just... I needed to tell you that, I think. And even if you never believe me or never forgive me, at least I tried. Please don't hold it against the people who really had nothing to do with it. Most of my people weren't in the city at the time and they had nothing at **all** to do with it. And - well - we can help one another. And all this fighting can stop and we can concentrate on... well, the Wraith."

Breath. A hand dipping. "I'm not done yet. Just... one last thing. Acastus told me... some things. And while I don't know details or whatever, and I have no right to poke my nose in at all, I just wanted to tell you it wasn't his fault either and it really upset him and he still cares for you, even if you aren't speaking. And I know he still wants to talk to you. So. Please don't bring me into the equation with that."

Right hand down. Then up. "And oh, I'm being sent home in a few days anyway so I'll be out of your hair, and if you still feel you need to beat the crap out of me, I'd appreciate if you did it in a way that won't leave any marks because I don't want Acastus finding out and it would be really, **really** hard to explain to Carson."

Hand down. Cringe.

Throughout all of this, Athos stands in quite genuinely stunned silence, listening. But by the time the barrage of words ends, he's reacting. Oh yes. He reacts.

He does not, however, move, but merely stands there, laughing softly and very, very bitterly. "...He didn't tell you, did he? Hah. The man never tells anyone anything. Even _you_ , it would seem."

"Doctor, I am not Acastus' former partner. Far from it!" Athos' expression becomes oddly blank as he says this, but the emotion flares again soon enough. "I am the one who turned him down. And what did he do next? He went and got my son killed in some ridiculous, overzealous attempt to impress Cowan. And then... he comes back from Dagan screaming bloody murder about how much he hates every last Atlantean alive, before promptly running off to get involved with one of the key players in both his near-downfall and _my son's death_!"

At the end of this bitter tirade, Athos remembers to breathe. Just.

"It wasn't his fault," Rodney immediately restates, ignoring the rest for now. Although it's possible that somewhere, deep down, he's breathing a sigh of relief that this man was never involved with his partner. And also possible that on a different, deeper, darker level he's deeply envious. Although the situation seems unlikely to arise, wondering if Kolya would choose... this man, over him? Rodney does not like the thought of being an also-ran.

"It really wasn't. He was with me and Elizabeth trying to stop the city from sinking in the storm. He nearly killed me when he found out. He made my life a living hell on that god-forsaken reptilian planet. It isn't like he just suddenly... turned around and nothing had happened."

Not that he wants to talk about that. Or what really happened. "Look, hate me all you like - I... actually I don't know what I should have done because I wasn't the one who got lost on your planet either. But you have to believe me, it wasn't malicious intent."

Rodney deliberately avoids any discussion of what Athos may or may not be to Acastus and how that was not a motivating factor at all because he wants to ignore that whole relationship entirely, thank you very much.

"There isn't anything I can do and there isn't anything I can say. So... this is all sort of... not meaningless, just a bit redundant. But I felt I had to say something, even if it didn't help. If I'm not going to get through to you then I'd prefer to just skip the screaming. I did that already. I didn't enjoy it then either."

"Of _course_ it was his fault," Athos half-growls. "As the mission commander, he was responsible for everyone under his authority. The fact that he was elsewhere making your life miserable..." The bitter laughter comes back again, and Athos shakes his head a little.

"He makes everyone's life miserable!" he exclaims. "But the fact that you could get attached to him afterwards..!" Leontis shrugs, staring at Rodney. "You're insane. You must be."

Then there's a pause. "Redundant?" Athos repeats, finally, the last of McKay's words catching up with him. "You interrupted my work for 'redundant'?"

His eyes flash. And yes, he is still holding that knife.

"Fine. Fine. He's responsible. It's all his fault. But he didn't **plan** on it. That's like saying he's to blame if... if some great big rock fell on him and he died of that. You're reading intent where it isn't."

It's possible that insult stung. It's also possible Rodney is looking very, very hurt. It's also possible that he won't take much more verbal abuse, because he's already taken more than he would usually.

"He was making my life miserable because that was his job. And maybe because he likes doing that, too, but I don't think many people can claim they don't do it to a certain extent. Not and be telling the truth, they can't. I'm not here to talk about my relationship with him. I'm here to apologise and try to get you to talk to him again."

Although, at this rate, Rodney is likely to tell Kolya never to bother again. There is rude and then there is rude and then there is Athos. Even if his son **is** dead it doesn't excuse him being a... well. Bastard.

"Redundant because clearly you have made your mind up and nothing I can say will change that and no goodwill in the world will help. Which is fine. If you want to go around so unhappy, it's none of my business. I don't understand it and I don't want to either. So. Is there anything you want to say or should I go back to counting tiles?"

At this, Athos snaps - though it isn't obvious until he speaks. "Oh, there's something I want to say..."

And he moves. He moves _fast_. Arm out, he grabs Rodney's shoulder and slams him bodily into the nearest wall, leaning in with the knife close. Which is, of course, exactly the sort of thing Kolya would do if he was really, really angry.

Guess who Athos picked it up from?

"...something I want you to _know_ , in fact. If it wasn't against the _supposed_ interests of my people, I would kill you right now, regardless of the consequences. You have made my life a living nightmare, you have turned my former best friend into an even greater fool than he had already become, and yet you have the _audacity_ to come down here and attempt some sort of... what? Apology? Reconciliation?"

This? Holds too many memories. Too many bad memories. If it isn't clear that Rodney’s reaction is one learned, it's clear that he really, really does not like this. He doesn't bother to hide the fear - there really isn't the point.

And what's worse, it's all his fault.

It takes Rodney a moment to wet his lips and carry on, voice close to cracking. "I came... I came to... to explain. Even if you don't want to listen. I was there. I know what happened. I have absolutely no reason to lie to you. And I came to find you, it wasn't even as though you came to find me."

Eyes closed, breathing shallow and hiccupy. So. Very. Not. Happy. And yet, all his own doing. "I don't care what you think about me. I just wanted you to talk to him, and to... help stop this stupid tension and actually _accomplish_ something. Something everyone wants."

Rodney's head hangs, resigned. This being his own, conscious decision helps. Not much, but it does help.

Athos fights to keep some kind of control on his emotions, which is not easy. He doesn't want this. Doesn't want more reminders, more words, more anger.

"You want me to talk to him?" Athos repeats, his tone now quieter and more dangerous. "You want some kind of resolution? How can there **be** any resolution?! Because of you and this wretched peace deal, I will never get the revenge I long for. And ironically, neither will Acastus."

“If you want to be angry with someone, be angry with the Wraith! Or be angry with the Goa'uld! Or be angry with... with... with quantum theory or thermodynamics! It makes about as much sense."

Rodney looks up now, proudly raising his chin, trying to be Brave. "He wanted you to talk to him. I wanted him to be happy. And you, co-incidentally. That is entirely beside the point."

Eyes closed, Rodney leans his head back against the wall. Sharp, shallow breaths. "It would be nice if you would let me go."

"Wouldn't it just?" Athos says, coldly, refusing to move. "Maybe I should. I am, after all, in the middle of a rather tricky interrogation. And let's be fair, it's more challenging without Acastus to help me. Unless he's lost his touch, he really is very effective." A pause. A very, very brief, nasty pause. "But you already know that, don't you?"

The malice in his tone is unmistakeable. Athos knows he can't risk hurting Rodney physically - but emotionally? Mentally? That's something else.

Only, Rodney never broke. Not on Atlantis, not on Dagan. If anything, it was the Planet of the Dinosaurs that did it. Still.

"He is already engaged," Rodney says, but the tone is too blank to be emotionless.

" **He** will never change," Athos counters. "Not really. No matter what he's told you."

"He hasn't told me he will." Slow, careful breathing. Slow. Slow. It's clear Athos is insane and incapable of reason. Okay. So now the idea is to get away.

"And **I** am telling you he won't." Athos feels this needs re-iterating. And emphasising. Oh yes. By holding the knife even closer; so close that it brushes against Rodney's neck.

Rodney lifts his head and swallows convulsively. There isn't that much further back he can get.

"I don't expect him to," he says, even though his voice is a little shaky and if you look closely you'll see the finest of tremors coursing through him. Eyes closed, and he thinks about it. No, Kolya isn't really that different from Sheppard. A little. Maybe.

"And I won't change either. Well, not much." A deep breath. The words, 'will you?' roll through his mind, but he doesn't dare voice them. The cold nip of metal is enough to curb his tongue - for now. Oh so... frighteningly reminiscent.

"Really?" Athos asks, voice low and very, very questioning. On the surface, it sounds merely like he's not convinced, but deep down, there's a lot more to it.

And then he stares. And glares. And… still doesn't move. It's possible he's trying to work something out, and also possible that he just wants to make Rodney unhappy.

Rodney looks down for a moment, not meeting Athos' eyes. And then, all at once, he looks up.

If he can't even say this to someone who knows Kolya better than he does, how is he ever going to say it to the people who hate him?

"There may be... difficulties. But I'm prepared to try."

Something about this clearly hits Athos in a way he wasn't expecting, because he finally stands back, lowering the knife slowly. "You're prepared to try," he repeats, emphasising each word. "Well, go ahead. But believe me when I say that sooner or later, you will suffer for it. And when you do... I hope I'm there watching. I do so enjoy being proven right..."

Rodney's hand immediately goes to his throat and he rubs it, grimacing. He looks... more sad than anything else. Though why he thought his wonderful people skills could help warm Athos where Kolya's couldn't... such a stupid idea.

And maybe there was more selfishness in it than he first thought.

"I'm sorry I wasted your time," Rodney says, deciding not to even give him the bait necessary. He goes to leave - there's no reason to stay any more.

As Rodney moves, Athos grabs his shoulder all of a sudden - not to push him anywhere, but simply to hold him for a second. "No," he says, bitterly. "You aren't. But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

Rodney jumps at first, but stills. A response makes its way to his lips, but no further, and instead he looks back where he wants to go and waits for Athos to let him free.

Part of Athos doesn't want to let go. Part of him wants to throw Rodney back against the wall, to hurt him, to try to drag some sense of revenge, completion, closure, out of all of this.

But he can't. He can't for... very complicated reasons, and not all of them connected to the fact that hurting Rodney would lead to Kolya finding out. And acting on it. And Athos would rather not be next in the line of people who Kolya sends to the infirmary.

So after a moment, Athos lets go, no longer preventing Rodney from leaving - though it's clear from his eyes that the commander is extremely unhappy indeed.

No matter how hard he tries, Rodney never seems to be able to stop these... things from happening. It's... so very frustrating. So very disheartening.

Rodney leaves. Rodney leaves and walks out and heads back to where he came from. He walks past Jerran without even looking up for him, and carries on. He's going to sit in Kolya's bed and cover his head and wait until he comes back.

And try not to look like he feels. Because. That would be bad.

Athos has only two options, now. One involves going back to his work, back to the interrogation he was involved in, back to his life in which he avoids all thought of the past and lives solely for now.

Hah.

The other option... he's not even going to think about.

All of this... hurts. Hurts deep, deep down. Deeper than words, deeper even than thoughts.

Athos Leontis takes a long, slow breath. And then he walks back into the corridor, returning to his work. To his life. What else can he do?

It's hard to make choices when you see only one path.

Jerran, meanwhile, has spent the whole of this exchange trying not to listen. It's safer that way, and besides, if anything really bad happens, the sound will carry. Not that he could do anything, of course.

And then Doctor McKay is hurrying past, without stopping or speaking. Which is a bad, bad sign. Although the fact that he's still intact bodes well.

"Doctor McKay? Wait for me."

"I know the way back. I'm fine. Feel free to go do whatever," Rodney says, not even turning his head and walking at a distinctly rapid pace.

Jerran, of course, can't leave Rodney. No matter how much easier that might be. So instead, he dashes along after him, wondering exactly what was said in that room.

"Look, you know I can't just let you wander off on your own."

Part of him feels that, maybe, he ought to try being... supportive? That would be difficult. Jerran is not good at supportive. Jerran is good at doing what people tell him and thereby avoiding any kind of bad consequences.

"I'm going back to Kolya's room and I am not leaving unless I can't find a way to get food brought to me." Stride, stride, stride. "I am not wandering. I know precisely where I am going."

"That's not the point. If anyone finds out I let you walk off on your own down here... the results would be dire. Dire."

At least now Jerran knows where they're heading. And he isn't surprised.

"Fine, follow me and then bring me food to last me several days and I won't do anything dire again."

Jerran sighs, and doesn't say any more. He does, however, remain firmly at Rodney's heels, looking distinctly edgier than usual.

Well. This will be all right, so long as the doctor isn't about to ask him to go looking for Commander Kolya. Because now **that** would be scary.

"Thanks," Rodney says as he reaches the door and lets himself in. And shuts it behind him.

...then sinks onto the bed and closes his eyes and... shudders.

He must be insane. Really.

For a moment, Jerran hangs around outside the door, at a loss as to what he should do. Hmmm. The best plan would be to leave. And stay far away. So he does. His lab is far safer than attempting to get any of this sorted out.

If, indeed, such a thing is possible.

***

It is sometimes said that if you have a very good day, it is only because fate is waiting to take a swing at you. But Kolya isn't thinking that. What he _is_ thinking is that spending most of an entire day duelling is very, very good for him.

Tiring, though. And since he's dismissed his trainees with time to spare, he decides to head back to his room for a short while before going to Jerran's lab to pick up Rodney. Yes. That would be a sensible idea.

Fate takes aim...

The door to Kolya's quarters opens slowly, and he steps inside, a little lost in thought - and certainly not expecting to find himself anything other than alone.

Rodney has been in the room for a long time by now. It's amazing how utterly impossible it is to pass time when you really don't want to do anything but reboot the day from scratch. Reformat, perhaps.

By the time Kolya gets back, Rodney has already gone through a third of a notepad with... almost illegible dedication. And it's only because all his pens ran out that there's nothing more.

Books rest scattered around him as he lies on the bed, eyes closed, head moving slightly to the overtures he's playing back inside.

Until the door opens, and he sits up and realises for all his thinking he never **did** decide on his plan of action. "Uh. Hi. I had a..." frantic handwave, "headache, and Jerran was busy so I came back here." That's right. Sound guilty from the start.

Shutting the door, Kolya gives Rodney a very careful look. He knows instantly that something is not right - after all, why would a man who was so desperate not to end up in bored isolation suddenly subject himself to exactly that?

Furthermore, there is no way that excuse is even _close_ to believable.

"Rodney. There's something you're not telling me."

"No. Well. Yes. I wanted to surprise you." What with, your advanced powers of failing to sound convincing? "Surprise."

Rodney tries to smile amicably.

"Okay. I'm just sick of working with Jerran so I decided I should get myself... prepared. For the summit. Thing."

Even now, Kolya still has to mentally kick himself to prevent switching into pre-set interrogation tricks, because that really wouldn't be a good idea. Not that the overall skill isn't useful, however.

He strengthens the force behind the Look, though.

"You know I'm not going to fall for that," the commander says, carefully. "Please. Tell me what has happened."

It must have been something fairly serious. Kolya wonders, offhand, exactly how much he can blame Jerran for this.

"It's nothing. I'm fine. I didn't do anything you can be called to task for. Can we just ignore it? I don't want... I don't want any bad water." He smiles in a not very reassuring fashion. He is hurt and tense, yes, but he's trying to not be.

“You are not fine. And you are well aware that I know it. Now please, whatever happened, tell me."

As Kolya speaks, he realises he's looming again, and so paces up to the bed, sitting down on the end of it - though without looking away from Rodney's eyes.

"Nothing." Because whatever Rodney says, if he includes anyone else in this, they will suffer in innocence as a result. And if he admits it is Athos - well, all his hard work to try and patch their relationship up will be undone twice over. And he doesn't want that, even though Athos is a bastard. No need to upset Kolya about it.

"I've just been worrying about the technicalities of the arrangement between my people and yours. It's nothing major, it's just that I've been... well. Thinking. Overthinking, even. I do that a lot. How was your day?"

The commander takes a deep breath. "Rodney. Either tell me what is going on or I will go and find Jerran, and ask him."

So yes, that might just be a threat, but he's hoping it won't be necessary. Persistence should be enough.

_Should._

"It has nothing to do with Jerran. It isn't his fault at all, so just... just don't talk to anyone. Okay? It was a mistake and no harm was done and I'm fine and you're fine and we'll just chalk it down to... cabin fever or me being monumentally stupid - well not stupid because I'm rarely that - misguided, perhaps. Over-confident..."

"He will still explain what happened. But I'd much rather hear it from you."

A mistake? Ah. Now that is telling.

Finally standing, Rodney looks pleadingly. It isn't his own hide he's worried about, which makes it the worse. He saw how upset Kolya was after he last spoke to Athos. And he really, really wants to save him the upset this time.

"Trust me? It's not something you need to know and you'll be happier not knowing and I'll be happier knowing you don't know. Please."

Kolya finally breaks eye-contact, because he can feel the way his tone is slipping, can sense his mind throwing forward possibilities that he doesn't want. Instinct is such a hard thing to fight.

"Sometimes one cannot have the luxury of being happier. I would rather know what is going on."

Rodney had been trying so hard to come up with a way of explaining his hiding in Kolya's room all day, and his lack of calm (for him) and general well-being. So very hard.

But, deep down, part of him always knew that either Kolya's insistence, or his own inability to keep quiet would make silence impossible.

He's making it worse by making a thing of resisting. And if Kolya finds out from someone else... well. Who knows what spin they might give.

A beaten man, he sinks into the chair. "I went to see Athos."

Oh no. No. No. No.

No.

Up go the mental walls.

"...Athos. You went to see Athos." Kolya's tone is incredibly level as he speaks - unnaturally so, of course. It doesn't take a genius to notice that. "Why?"

Rodney manages quite thoroughly to look dejected and apologetic. And very, very miserable. "I... I wanted to apologise, I think. And... even though it wasn't either of our faults... I just... you seemed so sad..."

He sighs. "Things... did not go well. So there won't be a repeat performance, if that's what you're worried about."

Back on his feet, though remaining still, Kolya looks... complicated all of a sudden. On the one hand, Rodney was trying to do something helpful, something genuinely aimed at improving matters. But on the other... re-opening the whole Athos issue... not good. Very, very not good.

Athos might have hurt him. Killed him. For revenge. Closure. Spite.

Clearly Athos did not, however, kill Rodney. But if things didn't go well, then...

"...what happened?"

"My apology was not accepted. And you should probably stay away from him for - well, for forever. He was very not happy."

"I didn't know he'd be like that. It isn't even like I had anything to do with it. It's like me blaming... blaming him for what happened on the Hive ship. It's just... stupid, petty-minded idiocy. Not that I said that much."

"I should have kept to my laboratories, shouldn't I?"

The commander paces across the room. Just once. Stops. Turns.

Breathes.

"Both of us are responsible, as far as he's concerned. Nothing I have said will change his mind. And believe me, I have tried."

Kolya doesn't like this, not at all. He doesn't like knowing that something went on between Rodney and Athos and _not_ knowing every detail. And his feelings are fairly obvious now.

"Did he hurt you?"

Rodney shakes his head, slowly. "No. He can't, anyway. If I was at all marked when I got sent back... well. It wouldn't be a good idea."

"I thought I might knock some sense into him, but if you want my honest opinion the man is impossible. Not that my opinion is a good benchmark because I find most people impossible, especially ones who don't listen to sound reason."

"I should probably have told you but I knew you'd say no and get upset and I didn't want to tell you, because even if he is a jerk you don't need to know. I... I wish there was something I could have done but at the time..." At the time, you were threatening to fling me from the pier.

"Oh, he could," Kolya replies, bitterly. "The last time we talked, he was ready to kill you. And me." And probably himself. "He doesn't believe in the peace deal. His reasons for avoiding violence must be... connected to something else."

Of course they are - and Kolya knows it. He knows that Athos is well aware of the results of hurting Rodney: namely, first and foremost, that Kolya would turn up looking Most Upset.

Right now, he wants to do that anyway. Wants to find Athos and...

How did it come to this? _How did it come to this?!_

"He didn't and I'm here and just nursing my wounded ego. Oh. And unable to face Jerran again for at least another twenty four hours, but... I'm fine. nothing I haven't seen worse before."

Fingers. Hair. Really should trim it soonish. "You wouldn't hurt Elizabeth or Colonel Sheppard, would you?"

Possibly that was not the best way to turn the conversation around; and, as a result, Kolya's expression gets even more complicated.

"No..." - not after everything that has happened recently - "but seeing them again will not be easy. _At all_. If it wasn't for you..."

...everything would be different.

He still wants to find Athos. Needs to find Athos. Possibly needs to...

No. No. Stop thinking. You do not need to make this worse. You don't. Another duel might help, though.

"Right. I didn't think you would." But Athos... was... all sorts of things. A bad, bad voice of evil doubt. Which Rodney does not need, because Kolya will not hurt his friends or him. Won't. Not intentionally, anyway.

"I knew I shouldn't tell you."

Oh no. Rodney sounds extremely unconvinced. And almost... sceptical? Kolya's expression darkens more, and he paces across the room again. Once.

"There's something you're not telling me. Something else." An unspoken 'now out with it' is somewhat obvious at the end of this statement.

Rodney shakes his head, but refuses to meet Kolya's eyes. "That's it. I went. We shouted. He told me how much he'd like to kill me if it wouldn't land him in trouble, then I left and have been in here starving and bored and insane for the rest of the day."

Kolya closes his eyes, taking another calming breath. "Tell me what he said. Or I will go and ask him myself."

This isn't fair. This is emotional bullying and torture and abuse and... god damn it, it hurts. And still, this intolerable need to tell the truth.

Rodney tries to sound light-hearted. "He said you would never change. But I told him I didn't expect you to." A pause. A very, very pregnant pause. "But... you don't need to change, do you? I mean, not really..."

**That. Bastard.** Kolya makes a decision, here and now, to find Athos tonight. To find him and hurt him and make him see...

But amidst the anger, he's starting to look somewhat hurt, too. Or perhaps not so much hurt as... sad. Maybe even pained. His voice is quieter when he speaks again. Quieter and very self-aware.

"I... can only be who I am. I can't change what I think. What I feel. What I do. Not really. And if that isn't enough, then..."

“You won't hurt me and you won't hurt my friends," Rodney says, although the pathetic note of 'please, please reassure me' is so very, very audible. "You… Okay. All soldiers do things that quite frankly people don't as a whole appreciate. But. I mean. You could have just killed me or left me to die or just used me on a program or used me as some bargaining chip or..."

Pause, breath, thought.

"And I don't know the reasoning behind when and what actions are appropriate. Even my work can be... destructive. Because of people like me we find new and more devastating ways to kill vast amounts of people."

He's thinking aloud. It’s clear from the very downcast expression on his face that he's been thinking this through _all day_. "You believe what you do is right. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. But I'm selfish enough to just want to know I'm safe and the people I care for are safe. And... and that, at the end of this all, that what we're aiming for is - well - peace. From the Wraith, anyway. Although people don't have a stellar record amongst themselves, either..."

Something about all this hits Kolya hard, in a way he wasn't really expecting - to the extent that he can feel some stark honesty seeping to the fore. Some very stark honesty indeed. And before he can stop it, some of that honesty forms into words that are too dangerous to say and too dangerous to withhold.

"I proposed this peace deal... For you. Because you had become more important to me than... anything. Even more important than revenge. And I... If you knew what I was like when I got back from Dagan... you'd understand how serious that was. I spent weeks wanting nothing more than to see all of Atlantis lying shattered on the ocean floor. When our sides had their brief weapons deal... I went to Cowan and told him that it was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. I told him to seize the chance to hurt you. He decided otherwise."

"And I just went on hating your people... over and over until it had become a detached feeling. But at the back of my mind... all the time... I was still on Dagan. With you. I didn't know why, not at the time. Then came the Planet of the Dinosaurs, and the rest..."

He lets himself trail off for a second. Pauses. Breathes. Keeps going before common sense makes him shut up.

"I proposed the peace deal because I needed you - I _need_ you - more than I needed all that hate... not because I believed myself to have changed. I haven't changed... but now I am seeing things differently."

"So no. I won't hurt you. I couldn't. Not after everything that has happened. And I won't hurt them, either. Not because I've simply forgotten how I feel, but because you are more important. And hurting them would hurt you."

All of this classes as Scary Genii Logic, which was probably something he really shouldn't have said. Come to think of it, all of those paragraphs might have been better off unheard.

Kolya sits on the bed again, head in his hands, looking as unhappy as he did the _last_ time that it was All Athos' Fault.

To look at Rodney right now would be to watch the way his mind works in slow-motion, echoed all over his face, his hands, his posture. It's a complicated matter - putting things in columns, finding totals, assigning priorities - even deciding what priorities he even has...

Rodney really doesn't have much of a leg to stand on, anyway. He's a Canadian, but he sold out to another country before he was even old enough to vote, and still hasn't gone back. Not really. So who was to say he had the moral highground at all?

He nods, slowly. "I... Well I know I'm going to be thinking about this. It's obvious I'm going to be thinking about it even if I say I'm not. Which I haven't and I wouldn't. But all that is beside the point..."

An over-warm palm slides over Rodney’s closed eyes. "I didn't know what he meant. If he meant something I didn't know or if he was just trying to upset me or what. But... most of the time, you've listened to reason, and I didn't think you'd really start being some complete lunatic or have been one all along or something. And... I know you hated us. We hated you too. It wasn't like it was all one way or anything."

Long, deep, slow, heavy breath. Then he adds: "Can we just act like that never happened? Him, I mean. I don't really think I made anything worse - unless you're really annoyed at me but you shouldn't be because it's him being an utter senseless, mindless idiot and I was only trying to help and it's not **my** fault if your friend is a raving, smack-happy lunatic. Whatever makes him happy."

"What you did...” Kolya replies, “I know it was a genuine attempt to improve matters, albeit a rather dangerous one. And I don't blame you for how this has turned out... but I can't just let it go. I'm sure you can imagine what I must be thinking about Athos right now."

If not, said feelings can be read quite easily in the commander's eyes as he looks up. He's got that need-to-slam-into-walls expression. And not in a good way.

"But will it really help?" Rodney asks. "I've seen what fighting people over and over does and sometimes it's just better to walk away than stay and get limbs chewed off and vital organs and egos all torn to shreds. He didn't do any real damage, not physically, and I don't need you to defend my honour or anything. He has a reason to be mad even if he doesn't have a reason to act like an idiot."

The doctor walks over to him, face almost scrunched up in thought. "I don't want you going off and getting hurt or in trouble or both. He **wants** you annoyed. I just want you here."

Rodney waves a hand around in circles as he starts to stammer. "I'm not very good at the... well. You know. Uh. I mean thanks. For what you said. Except not thanks because that's weak and what some frigid Miss Pompous would say. I... No. I'll... I'll tell you properly - later."

For a long moment, Kolya is about to state, quite blankly, that he does not run from a challenge. And this, as far as he's concerned, is a challenge - one that cannot be avoided, one that requires him to find Athos and make him regret the way he behaved towards Rodney. But at the same time, he knows that Rodney is right - what happened today wasn't initiated by Athos, and the man was only reacting to a difficult situation in the way his instincts told him.

Just like Kolya would.

And deep, deep, DEEP down, Kolya still wishes he could sort things out where Athos is concerned - wishes he could repair their friendship, wishes he could once again work with the man who was his closest friend for so long.

It's hard to fight your instincts. Harder still when you are a firm advocate of following them. And hardest of all when you know that the most difficult path might just lead to the resolution you desire - even if that path is not one you would normally take.

Finally, he says, "All right. I won't follow this up. But if anything like it happens again... I doubt my resolve will hold."

Then he stands, arm out to pull Rodney closer. "I'm sorry all this ended up affecting you. My... situation with Athos is one I had hoped you wouldn't have to face."

Honesty, honesty, honesty. All this emotional honesty. Maybe he _has_ changed. A little.

Rodney nods, looking tired. Truth is, all of this has got him wound up, and the fear and worry doesn't just suddenly leave, even though it is a relief to hear. He hesitates for just a moment before moving in closer, hand immediately making contact. "Right. Right. If he does anything else it's his own fault anyway and he's asking for it." He nods, affirming it to himself.

"It was my own fault. Jerran tried to talk me out of it but I thought I could apologise or something. Or tell him not to blame you." He laughs, roughly. "I won't do it again though."

"There is one thing you should remember," Kolya adds, looking suddenly serious. Well. More serious than before. "If he does come looking for you... don't provoke him. Athos Leontis can be extremely dangerous if pushed."

Just like me. But that's another fact Rodney knows - and does not need reminding of.

'Not pushing' is a bit of a hard injunction on someone like Rodney - who doesn't actually believe people sometimes when they tell him he is and he insists he isn't. But he nods. "Right. I got that. No need to warn me - once bitten, twice shy and all that."

"All right. Then we need say no more on the matter."

That won't stop the commander thinking about it, of course. Thinking, and worrying. But this would be inevitable either way. And in all honesty, he knows Rodney won't stop worrying about it for some time, too.

Well. At least they have all night to take each other's minds off it...

***

The last day before a major event always seems to be greeted by a majestic dawn. In this case, however, there isn't one. Sunrises are not a key feature of life in an underground bunker, as Kolya would no doubt point out if you asked him.

Even on the surface, there is nothing special or impressive about the way things look. The day appears to be just like any other, progressing as days generally do on the Genii homeworld.

Kolya is much the same. He goes about this Last Day as if it was any other - after all, most people are still unaware as to exactly what is about to happen. And besides, he's not about to start being emotionally _readable_ , is he?

But deep inside, he's conflicted. As of tomorrow, his people really _will_ be allies with... those people. It's a very disconcerting situation to be faced with - because on certain levels, he still hates them intensely.

And on other levels... all his own arguments as to why things should change really have had their own effect. Part of him genuinely believes in peace whilst other parts scream out for vengeance.

It helps him understand how Athos must feel, even if he won't admit it. Maybe... eventually... things might change for him, as well. Maybe.

Finally, Kolya's duty shift ends for the day... and nothing remains but the Last Night. He shouldn't feel like this. A man in control of his emotions, who knows what he wants and who will not let anything get in his way... should not feel as he does.

But he does. And he's got two options - another duel, or to go find Rodney.

He goes to find Rodney.

Despite Rodney promising to leave Jerran alone for the duration, Jerran saw fit to come by in the morning after the night before. And ask. For Rodney's help.

Faced with nothing but walls, walls, two more walls and a ceiling and a floor, Rodney gracelessly accepted.

Still. Jerran works a slightly shorter day than most - and than he used to, but it's probably because Rodney has been working with him and more than doubled his output after a few days of introduction. Which is why Rodney is always back in Kolya's room before Kolya is for the - well - night.

...though Jerran wanting to avoid Kolya is also a possible reason...

So. Rodney's back. Not long back, true, but long enough that he's wandering around in only his trousers and is towelling his hair - which he really does need cutting as soon as he gets back to Atlantis. He doesn't especially want to see whatever passes for a stylist in Genii culture - not considering how many of the men have fairly long hair, and few have theirs as short as he normally would - and also because he doesn't **really** want any Genii anywhere near his head with a pair of scissors, let alone a razor of any kind.

It's possible Rodney has been fussing about getting himself ready for some time. Very possible. He looks a bit off-guard when Kolya enters - he had wanted to be entirely ready. "Ah. There you are." Typical. Oh well. It's not like Kolya hasn't seen him shirtless before anyway.

Momentarily distracted from his convoluted, conflicted chain of thought, Kolya gives Rodney a slight though genuine smirk. "Here I am," he says, looking more pleased than surprised to find the doctor wandering topless around the room. "How was your last day?"

It's a fairly normal question, yes, though he also wants to check that said day did not involve Athos in any respect. Because if it did... well. That sentence finishes itself.

"Boring. As usual. I know that job keeps Jerran entertained, but it would drive me crazy back on Earth. Or Atlantis, even." He fusses a little with his hair, trying to get it to dry... straight. "But nothing exploded, no one lost any of their faculties or limbs, and more importantly, it's over."

And then a pause, as it takes Rodney a while to remember courtesies. "And yours?"

Over. **Over**.

Not exactly the best choice of word. Kolya is beginning to wonder if that extra duel might have been a good idea after all.

"Productive," he replies, most of his emotional reaction still well-hidden. "I spent the afternoon duelling with two of my more advanced sparring-partners."

This lone sentence is telling enough - firstly, because a whole afternoon spent duelling is usually a sign that the commander needs distraction, and secondly, because he's deliberately not mentioning what he did all _morning_.

Rodney is mostly unconscious about things like this. He assumes that any rational, intelligent being thinks precisely as he does. Which is why he sees no insult whatsoever in what he chose to say, and doesn't notice the omission, either. Perhaps it's wilful oblivion. Perhaps not.

"I was trying to get sorted before you came back," he says, not dropping the towel, but moving in closer. He's still a little awkward about the initiating affection thing, and likely always will be self-conscious and slightly clumsy. But he's happy and well-meaning enough on the surface, even though the threat of separation is looming over his shoulder. "Do you want a shower, or have you already taken one?"

"I took one in the changing rooms," Kolya replies. Which is true. The fact that he very nearly went straight back to continue hitting people again afterwards is beside the point. Because he didn't do it. Just.

As Rodney moves closer, Kolya raises an arm to draw him in, welcoming the contact - even more so because of the good doctor's distinct lack of shirt. He trails a finger across the other man's collarbone, slowly, as if thinking.

"How do you want to spend your last night here?"

He has a few ideas. Several, in fact. Though it has on occasion been noted that allowing Kolya to do a lot of the things he thinks about tends to be rather risky.

Rodney keeps hold of the towel but huddles in closer. Because he can.

"Well, anything but working or reading. Food would be nice. But apart from that... I'm easy," he says, trying for coy and debonair. And failing. At both.

This gets the good doctor a smile, albeit a light one still held back by a mindful of other issues.

"How would you feel about a drink or two?"

It's clear what kind of liquid he means, of course. Kolya is rarely one to go for alcohol, but every now and then, it sounds like a good idea.

“It depends. Is the drink atrocious and gelatinous, citrus or otherwise unpalatable? In which case no. If, on the other hand, it is nice-tasting, caffeinated or of an alcoholic variety that will not require my stomach pumping before I go back, then yes."

"It is of an alcoholic variety," Kolya states, with more than a slight smirk. "And no, it does not contain citrus."

Then he steps back, pacing over to the back wall of his room, where there's a short cabinet (beside several of the weapons.) From said cabinet he withdraws a single, opaque silver bottle, fairly tall and non-descript. It sloshes as he hefts it.

"And that is called…?" Rodney asks, sitting on the end of the bed and putting his towel down at last.

"Ebiral," replies Kolya, more conversational now he's slightly distracted. "It is... potent."

And _that_ is an understatement.

He turns again, searching in another cabinet for two glasses, before joining Rodney on the bed.

"You do have things for the morning after, don't you? Hang-over cures, I mean, because I suffer terribly from hang-overs, something I learned back when I was in college. Or was it earlier... At least it's not as bad as when I take weed, because you really don't want to see what happens then."

Who needs a little tipple to loosen the tongue when you're of the McKay line?

"And if I wind up doing something stupid again whilst drunk, I want you to remember it was your idea. Okay?"

"I do," Kolya tells him, now starting to pour the rather ominously-green liquid into the two glasses, in somewhat generous amounts.

Then he smiles, a little wryly. "Oh, I accept this was my idea, but if you do anything foolish, that will be entirely your own fault. Unless it's mine as well, of course."

"You are not being very encouraging," says Rodney, pouting more than necessary and taking the drink. He sniffs it cautiously, then looks at Kolya, waiting for him to drink first.

"At least I can live off any morbid details back on Atlantis if I really wind up tied to a lamppost singing."

Kolya gives him an extremely... expressive look in return, then lifts his glass and downs a good half of its contents in one. "Encouraging, maybe not. But honest, yes."

"And if you end up tied to anything, it will not be a lamppost."

Rodney sips. Pulls a face as a matter of course. Then drains the entire glass in one and shakes his head violently after.

"That gets really embarrassing if you lose the key. The firemen have to come and saw off the bedposts." Not that he knows about... okay maybe he does.

Impressive. Most people would not be that daring after their first taste of **this** stuff. Kolya downs the rest of his glassful too and immediately lifts the bottle in a silent do-you-want-more? gesture.

"Not the bed, then?" the commander says, with a truly _bad_ grin on his face. "That won't be a problem." He leans closer, in the way he always does when about to deliver the key line. "I have plenty of other furniture."

Rodney's still licking the very bad taste from his lips, but he holds out the glass anyway. He doesn't know the word moderation. Well, he does, but it only applies to mailing lists and bulletin boards.

"Keys. I am **not** having the lab boys coming in to remove me from any item of furniture whatsoever. And if you're thinking of that," he says, apparently still unphased - don't ask - "you should test them now while you can still see and then put the keys on a chain and give it to me. Because really. There is only so much ridicule one man can take. And have you **seen** what kind of marks they can give, especially if they aren't stainless and rustless?"

Then Rodney pauses. "Also, please tell me you don't have a thing for duck noises. Although by this stage I already knew about that. Can't remember _why_ I let that slide either."

"In truth, I had... something else in mind," the commander says, rather cryptically, whilst he refills their glasses. "But as for the marks you mention... yes. I know _exactly_ what you mean."

Possibly the reasons for this knowledge would be best left undiscussed. There's a reason Kolya now prefers to leave his job at the door in the evening.

And then he's back to the stare-response that Rodney's odd little remarks tend to elicit. "No," Kolya replies, "I do not."

"Good. I thought you would have told me by now if you did. Ducks? Why ducks? I suppose it makes sense on one level, but having a kink about hospitals because of the food and the gowns and the stethoscopes is much more rational."

Then he pauses and narrows his eyes. "What, exactly? You aren't allowed to go trailing things like that and only explaining when I'm too drunk to think it's a bad idea."

Kolya gives Rodney a _very_ odd look at the hospital-kink remark, but is still too sober and sensible enough not to allow himself to give in and ask the obvious - and alarming - question this seems to lead to.

"Ah, but if I told you everything, I would lose the element of surprise."

"Well I would be surprised when you told me," Rodney points out, very reasonably. And sips. And waits. It will take him another moment or two to brave downing another.

"Indeed you would. But you will be more surprised if I don't." Not exactly the type to linger over drinks like this, Kolya downs his in one this time.

Rodney is much too eager to appear better at this than he is. Down goes the drink. And perhaps he takes his time licking his lips just that little bit too much.

"Then tell me something else. After all, god knows how long it will be before I get a chance to see you again and I need something to think about." For someone often so shy, he's amazingly brash.

Not letting himself worry about tomorrow's events, Kolya is instead rather touched by this request. He's also aware that both of them are drinkless again, and reaches out to refill both of their glasses.

He is, of course, still not at all the type to start randomly talking about himself. It just isn't something he does - even where Rodney's concerned, though he is certainly more open with Rodney than... well, anyone else.

For a moment, he's about to give one of his usual, vague responses, something to brush aside the question and avoid having to say anything. But then, he changes his mind. This might be because he thinks it would be wrong to be that evasive - and it might be because he's just starting on his third very serious drink.

"The first time I drank this stuff, I was fifteen. I remember wondering for so long exactly how it could affect people the way it does, and eventually, a friend and I decided to find out."

Oh dear. Looks like he's gone from Meaningful Conversation Territory into Actual Conversation Territory. Hard to know which is worse.

Rodney snorts. "Were you sick? I was sick. But that was probably because people were putting things in my drink I didn't know about. But I'm asking you aren't I. Right."

Drinking means you have to stop talking temporarily. This is often very useful.

"No. But I did wake up alone in a part of the bunker which I had never seen before and had absolutely no idea how to get out of."

How's that for honesty? Down goes drink number three.

"But you did have all your clothes, right? And no one drew on your face?"

"Thankfully, I was still clothed and art-free. Unfortunately, my friend was nowhere to be seen."

"He was okay though, wasn't he?"

Kolya gives him a rather wry look at this. " _He_ was locked in an armoury, three floors up. And no, neither of us had any idea how he got there."

"Well as long as you stay away from dangerous chemicals - other than the drink, of course - you're kind of guaranteed to end up doing that, passing out, throwing up or doing things you really wish you didn't. If you find the chemicals, you end up purple for a week in interesting places. It's like a law of alcohol, I think." Rodney finishes his drink.

"So what are we doing we shouldn't? I won't be here so you can just blame it on me. But we should do something, because it's tradition."

Re-filling both their glasses again - the action almost automatic now - Kolya gives Rodney another odd little look. "Purple?" he prompts, deciding that now is a good point to turn the conversation around.

He still doesn't answer Rodney's question, however - which isn't really all that surprising.

Rodney waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, the older students are always doing things like that. It wasn't like I was singled out or anything." Read, not only singled out but made a laughing stock and a by-word for the fall guy even after he left.

And it doesn't take someone with Kolya's abilities to know that's what Rodney really means - though it takes his newly-acquired levels of tact to avoid mentioning it.

In all honesty, what he's actually thinking boils down to two distinct points: firstly, that beating the living hell out of some of those bastards would be an excellent idea, and secondly, that he's actually imbibed rather a lot of the notably potent alcohol and can suddenly feel the heat of it behind his eyes.

Nevertheless, he downs the next glassful, whilst considering what to say next. He overthinks conversation all the time - but far more so when trying to combat intoxication.

Because Rodney really does not want to hear his life story, now or ever.

It's possible Rodney is conscious of the fact he's letting things slip he shouldn't again. And it's also possible that thinking of unhappy schooling in combination with all the explanations he's going to have to give, all the defences and the tests and the mistrust... oh, and the complete lack of any relationship other than the long-standing love-affair with his hand...

Rodney twirls the contents of his glass thoughtfully. It seems to be moving slower than he expected. That or he's drunk - which is always a possibility. And the sudden urge to start dredging up painful pasts (of which he has many) is not far from his lips. So instead - in a Herculean effort - he attempts to side-step wailing like a baby.

"I think I'll miss Jerran. He reminds me of Radek, a bit. You don't know him. He's Czech. And he has glasses and funny hair..." Rodney makes the gesture of Radek-shaped hair, almost spilling his drink on himself - "but that's not why he reminds me of Jerran. Or the other way around. You'd probably like him. He doesn't talk as much as me - well not to me anyway, and I never know what he's saying when he speaks Czech..."

Kolya almost laughs at Rodney's rather emphatic gesturing, deciding it might be wise to avoid highlighting the conversation side-step. Plus, he's more than a little drunk, and the gesturing is more than a little funny.

Hmmm. That line of thought wasn't right. Was it? Well. At least he's not thinking about the kind of things he usually...

Ah. So there would be the thoughts. Distraction might be a good idea.

"I imagine I'll be meeting a number of your colleagues before long," he observes - and you can tell he's under the influence because this is not a topic he'd go for otherwise. "Although I have met some of them before."

_Oh, good idea, Acastus. Let's just start discussing **that** again, shall we? And stop internally talking to yourself._

"Not the scientists. Just Sheppard and Ford and Teyla and Elizabeth. But Ford isn't there anymore and you didn't get to talk to Teyla. She's nice. Very, very smart and she bends in ways humans shouldn't."

"I'd stay away from Kavanagh, though," he adds as an afterthought. "Nobody would blame you for hating him if you met him. We all hate him too. And as long as you don't go waving weaponry around or trying to learn access codes or stealing C4, I promise I'll stop Sheppard pushing you around. I think. Elizabeth wouldn't. She'd probably get that disapproving look she gets. I've only seen her shout once and that was because I accidentally blew up a solar system."

Rodney pats Kolya's knee a little heavy-handed. "But I'll tell them about the dinosaur thing. But not about the tree or the training room or the medical bay. Because I don't think they really want to know. Or would they? I know some people talk about their sex lives all the time and I know some of my girlfriends did but not in front of me because I'm not a girl."

Then he drains his glass and, just after swallowing, hiccups.

Kolya blinks. Tries to work out exactly how much of what Rodney just said is actually possible for him to understand and how much of it is covered by Rodney-isms. Then he stares into his empty glass again.

Oh dear. Well. This seemed like a good idea at the time. His other good idea now sounds like a _very_ good idea, and as such, he feels oddly compelled to mention it at last.

"We should go for a walk," he says, aware on some level that this is a complete non sequitur from the last steps of the conversation, but not letting this fact interfere. "There's something I want to show you."

"Oh god," is Rodney's response. "Is this when you show me you're actually a pan-dimensional being, or that Genii are all born in tanks? Because if so, I'd rather not know. But if it isn't that's fine. If it is, I don't want to know."

"Rodney. We aren't born in tanks. We're born in beds."

Blink. Stating the obvious. Not good. And though Kolya isn't entirely sure what a pan-dimensional being is, he's fairly sure he isn't one, and so doesn't comment.

"No. I want to show you something. Up there."

He points towards the ceiling, clearly meaning one thing. Overground. Kolya almost never goes overground unless out on a mission - but now, he looks very intent on it.

"Oh. Much better. It was just the way you said it all at once made me..." handflick, fingers clicking. Word gone.

Instead he smiles slightly goofily. "Sure. I knew what you meant really."

"Good. Come on."

Kolya's almost eager, now; glass set down as he stands more steadily than he has any right to, before moving to pull Rodney to his feet.

Rodney is somewhat a dead weight in that he really rather likes sitting down on comfortable beds. Also there's the thing where he's drunk so much that movement will remind him of it. A lot.

But he still manages to stand - only leaning on Kolya a little. Waves a hand mutely, a gesture to pause, and then grabs the shirt on the bed and pulls it on, with a vague attempt at looking presentable. In case people see… even though if they see him and Kolya in this state of intoxication, especially on the surface, then it probably won’t matter how flat his shirt is. But it will keep him warm.

And without saying anything else - for the moment - Kolya tugs Rodney towards the door. He's suddenly very aware of the amount of alcohol in his blood, but its presence is enough to lower his inhibitions to the point where he doesn't seem to care.

He leads the way out into the corridor, immediately trying to decide which of the surface hatches is closest - and hoping that they aren't about to run into anyone.

Because that would be _bad_.

"Where are we going anyway?" Rodney asks, walking a bit faster and occasionally bumping into Kolya. "...I'm not going to say that, but you should say something soon before I do."

Kolya gives him what might be classed as a 'mysterious' look, but only if you had very little understanding of the man giving it. In truth it's a lot more complex than that - though, in fairness, a certain element of mystery does come into it.

"Up," is all he says in reply, though after a moment he gives Rodney a careful look, his mental process snagging on something else in what the doctor just said.

"Say what?" he asks.

"Anything," Rodney says, deliberately or not misconstruing Kolya's comment.

"You sounded as though there was something specific."

The commander really ought to know when to stop pushing. But it's habit.

"No. Just anything you want to say. It's... I don't like the silence. That's all."

This earns the doctor a slight Look, though Kolya decides to drop the matter for now.

"I had noticed," he says, instead. And then, a pause, before... "Why not?"

Rodney shuffles his feet a bit at that. "Long story."

"We've got time," Kolya replies. "We're still a few minutes from the nearest hatchway and it's a short walk after that."

"Really, really long story. Are all the hatchways so wonderfully hidden?"

This really **does** earn Rodney a Look, along with a very wry response.

"Oh no. Some of them have great big signs saying 'secret bunker entrance here.'" A pause, possibly for effect, possibly to keep his mind working against the alcohol. "Of course they're hidden."

"Well you might want to look into hiding them a bit better. And shielding things like non-agrarian power sources. Because anyone with enough intelligence could work out you weren't just on the hops and rye."

"Our methods of concealment have worked very well for a long time," Kolya insists, as they take a left turning at the next intersection, moving along another grey corridor... only now, there's a low rumble coming from the end of that passageway.

The reason for this is quickly clear - because it opens onto an extremely impressive panorama of the entire bunker; buildings and pipes and structures spreading out in front of them.

"Well I'm just saying," Rodney continues, entirely caught up with his troubleshooting, "that you should try and block some of the noise... not literal noise... because if the Wraith or anyone else took a closer look, your concealment won't work. Maybe I could help Jerran figure something out..."

Then Rodney looks up. "Huh," he says. "It looks like Vancouver at night."

"Wonderful, isn't it?" Kolya remarks. He has always found staring out at this open chamber of the bunker to be inordinately relaxing, and there's always a touch of awe in his eyes when he does. More so now, of course.

In that view... lies his whole world. The bigger picture. His reasons for... everything. Oddly enough... it feels just a little more complete tonight.

Rodney cants his head. "Do you have a little fake sun?" he asks. "Because that would be pretty, if you could make it rise and set. It's nice," he adds, thinking perhaps he should be tactful, "but a little too... quiet. You need some drunk students singing in the streets on their way home."

"No. We just... change the light levels during the day." From dark to dim. And then back again. "And I believe it would be... wise... to avoid any kind of drunken singing."

"You don't want to hear my singing?" Rodney pouts, rather too dramatically. "I'm hurt."

"Not here," Kolya replies, his tone as close to diplomatic as he can get it when a) drunk, and b) him. "I am trying to be... inconspicuous."

Rodney grins and grabs Kolya's backside in a **very** friendly and enthusiastic manner. "I'll behave then."

"If only that were so," Kolya replies, with what can only be classed as a grin. And then, taking hold of Rodney's hand again, he pulls him onwards, moving off towards the point where the walkway disappears back into enclosed corridors once more.

They're close to the hatchway now. And that's a good thing, because as much as it might be _interesting_ to push Rodney into the nearest wall and find all the _interesting_ ways to remove any lingering desire to sing, it would also be a very bad idea.

Well. Fairly bad.

Rodney starts to hum. Just a little. Under his breath. It's a happy tune. And it's possible he can be a bit of an utter git when intoxicated. Maybe.

Kolya allows him about ten seconds of this, and then uses his grip on Rodney's hand to fling the man lightly against the nearest wall, before leaning in close. " _Inconspicuous_ ," he repeats.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Rodney smirks back, "but it isn't my style."

"I had noticed that, yes."

Get away from the wall, Acastus. And really, really stop internally talking to yourself. Now.

It might be just the alcohol. It might be the fact no one is really around, and that - all being well - Rodney knows he won't have to face any consequences here. It might be that he's trying very hard to concentrate on the here and now and not what's coming next.

Or it might just be that he's grabbed Kolya's collar and dragged him in to kiss him. Firmly. Causality is for those who aren't having enough sex.

On some level, Kolya is aware that having sex in the middle of a walkway - especially one with _that_ view - would be extremely interesting indeed. And on another, he knows it might turn out to be a monumentally bad idea.

These thoughts do their interesting mental dance whilst he lets Rodney kiss him - something the good commander is in no hurry to end. But when they do finally break for oxygen, he says, "Come on. Otherwise you'll miss what I want to show you."

"You mean this wasn't it?" Rodney asks, not letting go. Because. Because he isn't actually thinking right now. Not with his brain, anyway.

"Oh no. This is merely the beginning," Kolya replies, with an almost conspiratorial expression.

And then he backs off, tugging on Rodney again to get him to follow, throwing one last glance at the bunker panorama before heading towards the corridor up ahead.

Rodney needs no real urging to follow, which he gladly does close enough to be almost tripping Kolya. Sadly, the same would be true if he weren't intoxicated. The tripping part, though. Not the other parts.

"If you plan on walking me up a mountain to stare at dawn, I better tell you now I don't like mountains. Not unless they have little... what are they called... tiny little train elevator-type things..."

"No mountains," Kolya promises, whilst trying not to fall over Rodney.

The corridor they're now in doesn't last long - and soon, they reach a square, grey room containing only one thing: a ladder, leading to the hatch above.

"This is it. I'll go up first."

There's a question about killer wolves and bait there somewhere, but it's too difficult to form on his tongue, so Rodney just holds on to the bottom of the vaguely familiar ladder.

Kolya climbs higher and higher, finally pushing the hatch open with his shoulders, until it's lifted right up. Scrambling out at the top, he looks down.

Oh. Looking down a shaft at Rodney McKay. Now there's a memory he could live without.

"Come on," he calls.

Rodney looks dubious - and also isn't entirely blind to circularity. "I'm coming," he says, bouncing a bit on the first rung to make sure it is secure.

The commander waits, offering Rodney a hand when he gets to the top, and pulling him up into...

Well. It's a barn. It might be the _same_ barn, or it might not. It also happens to be rather dark.

Rodney wobbles a bit, then looks down the hatch, then looks at the barn.

"Nice barn. Very... authentic... air. Or is that the indigent animals?"

Kolya gives him a careful look. "That isn't a word," he points out. Blinks.

"Now. Almost there."

And off he goes again. Alcohol clearly does not make the man slow down. In seconds, he's at the door, pushing it open to reveal...

Night. Beautiful, cool, quiet night. They're on the edge of a forest, moonlight filtering through the branches, everything still and calm.

"It is a word. Means... animals... living without being... imported. It's a perfectly good word."

Rodney's idea of scenery usually involves the word 'gigabytes'. But he vaguely realises Kolya's doesn't, and so looks around. And yes, it's pretty. But it could also contain things like bees and lemons. Except bees don't normally fly around at night - maybe they go back to their hive... and lemons? Lemons have not yet been discovered in the Pegasus galaxy, but one never knows.

It is, however, cold. Not really cold, just a little cold on the end of Rodney's nose.

"I take it that wasn't the barn your father built with his own two hands and you were born in, then?" He huddles up closer, expectant. Because he could really offend Kolya - well, probably not much more than he already has.

Kolya hasn't been overground for... well. However long it is since he got back from the Planet of the Dinosaurs. It feels like forever. And no matter how much he always insists to liking nothing more than his nice, homely bunker, not even he could deny that look in his eyes right now, as he stares out at the world.

The real world.

"Oh no. I was born in the bunker."

And off he goes again, now following a path away from the barn and into the forest.

Rodney follows him, only half aware of what's going on. The alcohol is... well, the alcohol is doing what alcohol tends to do when you stop drinking and stop having fun for long enough.

"There used to be camps in places like this, but I never went to them."

"I did some very interesting combat training in a forest just like this, not far from here. Would've killed five men if we had live ammo at the time."

Possibly not the best thing he could have said. Ah well.

"I take it you don't do that when you have visitors."

"Depends on the circumstances."

Well. It does.

"Well. Guests who don't know you're actually all living secret double-lives without wearing your underwear on the outside. Although that is an interesting idea..."

Kolya blinks at him. "Wearing our... what _are_ you talking about?"

"Clark Kent. Superman. But please promise me you will never wear brightly-coloured lycra. It never looks good."

"I give you my word," Kolya replies, in a very good impression of one of his deeply serious tones.

And then the path up ahead opens out again, onto a very different panorama from the one they were looking at before. This time, laid before them, is an immense field, filled with...

"Tava."

Well. It had to crop up sooner or later. And that pun hurts too much even to re-think.

It still isn't caffeinated. Rodney looks at Kolya. Possibly for an espresso.

"I thought you might like to see it. And that you would enjoy time above ground."

"Ah. I didn't want to say something and then get everything messed up because I misinterpreted. I usually do that when people are doing non-obvious things, although you've probably noticed,” Rodney replies.

Then he looks out. It's dark and cloudless, so there are more stars than he's accustomed to seeing most places he visits. It's also very, very empty of people - something that would normally upset him, but for once is a good thing. "It's... quiet. Well. There are noises, but not the ones you get down there, with all the electric whine." There are trees. But Rodney can ignore that. Really.

"I'd forgotten I hadn't seen daylight - well, not that there is any now. I don't often see much of it anyway. Most of the things I usually do used to be in a lab til all hours. It's only since I came to this galaxy I've even been out much at all."

"I've always preferred being underground... but something about this particular place makes coming up here worthwhile."

They're still on the low slope between the forest and the field, so Kolya waves vaguely at the ground in a sit-down sort of way, and then does so. Though not one for sprawling, he does look more laid-back than usual.

Rodney checks the ground before he sits, but sit he does. He seems... sober. In a way. Quiet. The silence has the feeling of... waiting. For one of them to speak. At least it does to Rodney, because he's trying to work out how best to say this.

"It's going to be forever, isn't it? Until we can see one another again. And there's no saying your people won't suddenly decide to change their mind. Elizabeth will have her reservations too. Not that she can stop me. Well, she could, but then I'd refuse to work and then she'd have to give in."

At this, Kolya looks... sad. It's a very honest, very genuine expression.

"If Cowan tries to go back on the deal... I won't let him. I risked everything because I found a way to believe in it and I will **not** let him do anything to harm that." And now there's something else in his eyes - something darker and just as honest. It's the kind of look that can lead to someone getting a knife in the back.

No prizes for guessing who.

"And you... any time you want to come here, I will see to it that you can."

Rodney nods, then laughs slightly brokenly. "If it comes to it, which I doubt it ever would, I'm sure we'd be able to do something. I mean, even if you didn't want to come to Atlantis with me. I wouldn't want to come here, but that's mainly because the Genii as a whole don't seem to like me very much and - no offence - I'm not convinced they won't just turn around one day and some accident or other happen... I'm being pessimistic again, aren't I?"

"None of them would dare try anything," Kolya replies, the knife-in-the-back expression not wavering. "They know what would happen."

For someone often so clueless, Rodney can occasionally be the bright spark he thinks he is. "I don't doubt you," he says, turning to put his hand on Kolya's face. "It's them. I've been around those kind of people. If they decide this isn't good, they will stop it."

Which means Rodney can't look him in the eye. "Things happen. And I don't want anything happening to you. Not me either, of course, but that goes without saying. Just... be careful."

"I will. I am always careful. But bear in mind that Cowan has hated me ever since the Atlantis mission, and he's never tried anything. As for Athos... well. Athos may hate me, but he wouldn't dare attempt anything more than the odd swing at my head if we end up in the same room by mistake."

There's bitterness in Kolya's tone as he speaks, but real confidence, too.

"I know. But... well I don't know what really happens here, but I know what happens on TV and I read all of SG-1's reports and everything I had clearance for. Well, I skimmed some of it but I read a lot. And... okay, I'll stop now. I didn't mean to get all... like this."

"It's all right. I know you're worried. But if we can make it through an entire day and night on the Planet of the Extremely Bloodthirsty Dinosaurs, we can make it through anything else."

"You say that," Rodney says, letting his hand fall at last, "but you'll end up choking to death on... on a tava bean."

"I will endeavour to do nothing of the sort," Kolya replies, with a slight grin again.

"Right. Good." Rodney nods. Emphatically.

Kolya says nothing else for the moment - though there's a lot on his mind. Instead, he looks out at the tava once more, the low stalks rippling ever-so-slightly in the whispers of the breeze. It's odd, how having a headful of thoughts makes conversation harder than only being focused on one or two things.

Finally, the commander turns to Rodney again. "What will you do? When you get back to Atlantis, I mean."

"See what a mess they've made of my city. Be grilled repeatedly and poked and prodded by Carson to make sure I'm not a robot or had brain surgery or anything like that. Write report after report after report about everything. Probably send a message to my sister, maybe my parents if they told them I was likely to be dead, not that they will notice anyway. And then... drink a hell of a lot of coffee."

"...what will you tell them? Your colleagues."

"Well, that I haven't been subject to experimental brain surgery, that as part of the agreement we should really swap food supplies and give - okay, maybe not all of you coffee because then you might start trying to outpace us... so... maybe some coffee... and that your shielding is still woefully inadequate..."

Which isn't the really serious reply, which needs a pause. "That I wanted to contact them but couldn't. That their rescue plan really sucked. And that, apart from one or two people, I've been fine and not in the least bit stretched on a rack for all I know."

"...apart from one or two people?" Kolya repeats. He _really_ ought to learn to stop digging and find something distracting to suggest instead.

Rodney shrugs. He doesn't look particularly affected in that way particularly affected people often do. "I'm used to people not liking me. Most of the scientists on Atlantis don't like me. Actually they probably hate me more than the soldiers. Anyway. I didn't have to put up with them for long."

He cranes his head back to look at the sky. Very clear. Very cold as a result, but still. Very clear. "I'll tell them... well. I'll tell them about you. Which will make them send me back to the infirmary again. It's probably a good thing we won't be able to see one another for a while. It will give people a chance to... well. Get used to it."

"Do you think they _will_ get used to it?"

Kolya lets the question of whatever Rodney isn't telling him drop to the back of his mind again, but it's still there, and he still wants to know.

"Well. I know the American military isn't exactly happy about male-male relationships, but my country is fine with it and so are the countries of a lot of other people living in Atlantis. Not that that means anything about what people will think, and not that it's really... been much of a problem so far."

"John might never forgive me. He'll stop trying to kill you, but.... I think he'll be reminded too much of what you and he could do, or could have done. He'll... he won't cause any problems, anyway. Elizabeth... has had to compromise a lot of the time because she's a diplomat anyway. Not that she'll throw down the carpet. Ford isn't with us any more, and Teyla... well Teyla will probably like you, and everyone else... it's none of their business. Frankly."

Rodney shivers. These thoughts aren't nice, so he carefully nudges a little closer. The stupid alcohol is making his eyes water.

Sensing this - or perhaps the truth behind it - Kolya wraps an arm around Rodney, leaning back and pulling him close. "They will accept it, in time. My people did. Most of them, at least. And if they do not... you could come here..."

There's a lot he wants to say, so many silent words lingering behind each spoken one. The truth is, of all the moments in his life, this is the one he wishes he could live in.

But you can't live in one moment. And accepting that is something he's never had to do before.

"I can't," Rodney says, sounding honestly hurt. "Not forever. I can do more good there, and it's what I came to this galaxy for in the first place. To send some kind of help back to the people on Earth. I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating but I'm not. I really am the best person they have. I can... leave from time to time, but not permanently, if we want to keep Atlantis and stop the Wraith from getting a whole new unadulterated galaxy full of people to feed on."

It's the kind of responsibility Rodney once wouldn't have cared about, and now isn't sure he's happy about having at all. He wriggles a bit further into Kolya, more for the comfort of contact than the need for warm. "They will have to live with it, because I'm not going to let them dictate what I do. They have no right, for a start, and if they want the best help they can get they can just bloody well shut up." Most of the time he tries to refrain from bad language. Especially English bad language. But morons and computers can tax even the most patient.

There's a rather long silence, which clearly contains another long string of unspoken thought. Throughout it, Kolya keeps his eyes on the stars, watching them sparkle in the tapestry of night.

Then he looks to Rodney once more, suddenly intent. "I'm going to miss you. Incredibly. Every day that we're apart. But I understand - understand purpose, duty, responsibility. I know why you have to go."

Rodney looks intently at the grass. He hasn't examined grass in quite such close detail since he was at school. He usually makes a point of not looking down. "I don't think we're going to win the war any time soon. But we might. My people have a habit of scaring more advanced races with our arrogant persistence. And if we can get the whole galaxy to help..."

"It's wrong I just want it all to go away. But I do. All I've ever really lived for is my work for... longer than I can remember. My work and my cat. Well. I'll just have to find a way to think us out of a problem the Ancients couldn't handle. Because I don't want that to be my life all the time." Rodney drops his head on Kolya's shoulder, nose against his cheek. "They aren't here now. So... let's stop thinking about them. If we let them ruin life then they've won. But I wouldn't trade back everything that's happened to never have come at all."

Fingers wrapped around his wrist, Rodney kisses him lightly on the edge of his mouth. "Stop letting me wallow. I'm very good at it once I start. Also talking. I do a lot of that too if not stopped."

"Emotional honesty is often necessary, even if it isn't the most enjoyable state of mind. I was merely... allowing room for it."

Which is a textbook-esque way for Kolya to say that he, too, might have been wallowing. In a way.

Rodney snorts in amusement, but doesn't pass comment. "Tell me you brought more alcohol. I need to be less sober for this."

All of a sudden, Kolya's grinning again, shifting position a little in order to get to his pocket. After a moment, he holds up a bottle - not the one from before, but something smaller and therefore more dangerous-looking. It also happens to be green, though that fact is less obvious in the low lighting.

"Of course I did."

Rodney squints at it. "If I start singing the Little Goblin song, you have no one to blame but yourself," Rodney declares, but doesn't appear to be worried at the prospect at all. Which is worrying in and of itself.

"Noted," Kolya replies, silently wondering what a goblin could be. He opens the bottle, knocks back a shot, and hands it over.

Rodney really should have sniffed before he tried to drink an equal amount. He makes a curious choking noise that almost certainly covers full-mouthed expletives before finally swallowing and sitting with his tongue out to cool it. "Okay. Now dat is... you could stip paint'dat."

This earns him an extremely amused, extremely fond smile. "Oh, I know," Kolya replies, matter-of-factly. "I believe that was the original idea."

Rodney makes a vague growl. "Then we should play a game I learned in college. Who can keep it in their mouth longer." And maybe there's a hint of nasty-bastard sadism and dirty-minded student somewhere. Because oh yes. Rodney really was, and some things never change.

"Are you sure that would be wise?" Kolya says, now smirking at him. "You don't appear to be reacting entirely well."

It's more than likely that he's trying to wind Rodney up.

"I'm entirely sure it would be a very good idea. I was very good at this. Well I was with the chemists, but the physicists I knew were... actually don't think you could class them as 'human'..." He makes the universal gesture of hurry-the-fuck-up.

Looking calmly confident - in a way he ought to reserve for something a bit more serious than drinking games - Kolya takes another shot, without swallowing, and hands over the bottle again.

It's certainly an... interesting sensation. Though as he beats people up for a living, the good commander's opinion should be taken carefully.

Rodney, made even more arrogant by alcohol, takes more than can comfortably be held by a mouth with his tongue in. And, upon not swallowing, starts to smack Kolya's knee rather vigorously in an attempt at not dying.

Despite being something of an expert in matters of pain, Kolya would really prefer it if Rodney _didn't_ do that whilst he was concentrating, and attempts to give him a 'desist' look.

He's still very amused, though.

Rodney looks about ready to spit the whatever-it-is out, but sheer bloody-mindedness is stopping him. He does stop smacking Kolya, only to grip his kneecap instead, rather tightly. Fortunately it is too dark to see quite how pink his cheeks are.

Most of Kolya's concentration is on winning - after all, he too can do sheer bloody-mindedness - and as such he is little more than vaguely aware that Rodney has stopped hitting him.

And oh. This stuff hurts, in an odd, odd way. He blinks, determined.

Thoughts of hypoxia and the braincell damage this is doing suddenly makes Rodney attempt to swallow, choke, spit and yell something most closely described as 'Gggraghhhskkk' all at once.

"Look," he says, pointing out into the distance all of a sudden. "Dinosaur!"

People should not interrupt Kolya when he's concentrating - especially when he's a) also under the influence, and b) got a lot on his mind.

Thankfully, once Rodney starts swallowing - amongst everything else - Kolya does so too, leaving just enough of a pause to be clear about who won. In his mind, at least. But Rodney's shout comes rather fast, and as such Kolya is coughing rather a lot in the same moment that he turns briskly in the direction that Rodney pointed.

Then he stops. Pauses. Regains his breath and turns back. His expression is all glare, complete with eyebrows.

"What? It looked like one. All... dinosaur-like and big. But then I realised it was a hill. It's an easy mistake, you know. People get all sorts of things confused in the dark."

The glare continues, and if anything, the eyebrows get worse. Kolya still says nothing, steadfastly refusing to dignify that last statement with a response.

Rodney also does the eyebrows, but his is less a glare more a, who-me? He attempts to stare back, but the McKay rule of silence kicks in. "That stuff should be outlawed, anyway. I'm going to have to show you proper alcohol."

"This _is_ proper alcohol," Kolya insists. "They make it up here on the surface, when no-one's looking. In fact, I think it has tava in - amongst other things."

He waves the bottle in Rodney's direction. "More?" he asks, in the closest to an 'innocent' voice that a man like him is ever going to get.

"Two words; caffeinated beer. Except I don't really like beer. I just like the idea of being able to stay up longer to drink it."

"And you can strip your tooth enamel if you want,” Rodney adds. “I'm going to lie down." Which he does. With a thud and no preamble whatsoever. It's possible he's starting to feel lead-lined.

Ever-so-slightly smug, which is entirely justified after the dinosaur incident, Kolya takes another drink from the bottle - although he doesn't hesitate in swallowing it. Then, re-capping said bottle, he lies down again too, head propped up on one arm so he can look at Rodney whilst still feeling vaguely upright.

"Fond of horizontality, aren't you?" he remarks.

"If humans were designed to stand all the time, then no one would have invented backs." It feels very profound, that does. "And I'm supposed to take regular breaks anyway, or I get terrible pains in my shoulders."

"I don't think backs were invented. I think they just... happened."

Profound? That remark is painful at best. Kolya wonders where it came from.

In the meantime, he amuses himself by trailing the fingers of his non-head-propping hand across Rodney's chest. It wouldn't be all that difficult to compile a shortlist of what else he might be thinking right now.

"Well why don't we have third arms then? Ones that come out the back. Or tails would make more sense. Giraffes can't lie down. And sharks can't stop swimming."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're one of the strangest conversationalists in existence?"

"Mostly people assume I'm on drugs."

"I can't _imagine_ why."

Sarcasm is not the commander's forte... though the alcohol helps.

"It's my intelligence," Rodney says, quite confidently. "Genius is often hard to follow."

"...the reasons for which are also a mystery."

Just as Rodney really shouldn't attempt to play pain-games with Kolya, Kolya really shouldn't attempt to out-sarcasm Rodney.

"Someone has to think the things no one else will, because if they don't, then people never say, why did no one think of that before?" Rodney pats Kolya's hand in a reassuring fashion. "Don't worry. Just because you aren't as intelligent as me it doesn't mean you're stupid."

"And just because I can floor you in five seconds doesn't make you a pushover."

Really, Acastus. Stop it.

"Now, see, intelligence would have life-signs detectors, kevlar, force-shields and projectile weaponry. And a minion. No, several minions, all trained and loyal and intelligent and wearing clothes that wouldn't fit any random person because they are all short or tall." Rodney looks smug. He often does.

"You can only floor me if I decide I want to be floored. Or, I happen to have left all my minions on my other planet."

"You have no minions," Kolya replies, in his matter-of-fact voice.

"I do. They just have fancy job titles."

"Ah. How cunning of you."

A pause.

"I have minions. Real ones."

"Mine are real too. One of them keeps trying to make me tea. I have no idea why."

“You need to train them better. Or develop a liking for tea."

"I doubt I will ever like tea. It is nothing more than a disgusting and pointless substitute for coffee. But she does give nice back-rubs so I don't complain too much." And then he yawns. Doing nothing is very tiring.

Kolya waves the bottle over Rodney's head. "Do you want some more? Or shall we move to the part where I find a lamppost to tie you to?"

It's possible that was an attempt at a joke. But then again, he might be serious - except for the part where there _are_ no lampposts on the surface.

"The only lighting I've seen is the kind stuck into ceilings or hanging from it or really rather small, and I doubt any of it would cope with me," Rodney pats his own belly, "tied to it. Actually, it's like that in Atlantis too. It's very strange. If people get married out here we'll probably have to tie them to the Atlantean Death Cows for amusement."

"And oh. No thanks. I like my vocal cords attached to me. But it's kind of you to ask."

This earns him a look of faux-exasperation. "Well. No lampposts, no alcohol... so what _are_ we going to do for entertainment?"

"This **is** your planet, you know." The look Rodney is attempting would be called 'provocative' and 'risqué' by someone who didn't know that when highly intoxicated, that kind of expression looks more like a slightly unfocused leer. But it gets the point across. "You mean to tell me you can't think of a single thing to spend my last night doing?"

Without another word, Kolya leans in suddenly and kisses Rodney, hand grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

Then he pulls back. "I might have one or two possibilities in mind."

And kisses him again. Harder.

Rodney laughs, and hasn't a care in the world, for a minute or two at least, relaxed and happy and in very deep denial. Well. Not denial. Merely a refusal to remember. "If you didn't," he confides, "I would be really very worried."

"As would I," Kolya agrees. "One should never run out of ideas."

"Do I get to hear them, or are they a surprise?" Rodney bats his eyelashes. If women can, well, why can't he?

"They're a surprise," Kolya says, more than a little teasingly.

And he goes back to the kissing. Any second now he'll be...

Yes. A quick, sudden movement, one he has no right to be able to do with such ease after _that_ much alcohol, and he's straddling Rodney again - and clearly trying to see how long he can kiss the man without stopping to breathe.

It's possible that Rodney was attempting to ask about the plural before all the kissing started. It's also possible he's still trying to say something. He may, in fact, be trying to say 'mmmfmnnnnnnnnnnfhrm', which is not Canadian. Well. Not strictly speaking.

Rodney lets him. Right up until the minute Kolya has to stop before he passes out, which is when he attempts to roll them both over, because.... well. Because. He doesn't need a reason if he doesn't want one.

It's entirely possible that Kolya rather likes rolling. It's also entirely possible that he should never be allowed to drink, because it only makes him worse.

As a result, they roll several times, though he does have the grace - if one can call it that - to allow Rodney to end up on top. Besides. He can always roll them again if necessary.

They're getting dangerously close to the tava, though.

The tava has yet to show any signs of bees, lemons or a terrifying mix of the two. All the same, it is nature and therefore probably hostile, which means that, of his own accord, Rodney won't go much closer. Not intentionally anyway.

Rodney puts his hands on Kolya's upper arms, just below the shoulders, and proceeds to play-bite his throat and collarbone, wherever he can reach, and slightly less than graceful but more than enthusiastic, too. "What if I get you a hat and hide you in my room?" he asks. "I'm sure I could make people not-notice you."

Kolya merely lies still for the time being and lets Rodney do that - oh, and _that_ too - making a low, contented noise in the back of his throat. But when Rodney speaks, Kolya has to respond.

"I am an important Genii commander," he states. "I cannot be hidden beneath a hat."

And yes, he did just say that, alas.

"It can be a big hat," Rodney says, in complete earnest. "But not a three-cornered one, because people would get suspicious."

Rodney licks his way from throat to ear, nips. "A really, **really** big hat."

"No hat can hide me. And besides, I would get bored. And there would be no room for my weaponry. Or my minions."

He smirks, wondering idly if there's any way he could get Jerran to invent a machine to freeze time before sunrise. Of course, Rodney would be better at it... but Kolya really doesn't want to distract him. Especially not now.

"The minions would have to stay where they are, but my certificates don't take up all the wall," Rodney argues. "Maybe some sunglasses...."

Except now Rodney has an interesting mental image. He tries hard not to laugh. Which, while you are attempting to undress someone else with your teeth when drunk, is not the easiest thing in the world.

Deeply amused, worryingly intoxicated, and in that state of blissful happiness that only true denial can create, Kolya nevertheless gives Rodney an odd look.

"It would be much easier if I just hid _you_ in _my_ room. No one would dare argue with me on account of my history of violent tendencies."

Really. Someone stop him, quickly.

"My team might try to rescue me," Rodney says, giving up the teeth for yanking at Kolya's shirt instead. Instead of obeying the laws of Media, it stubbornly refuses to part with the sound of a 'crooosh' and he decides to unfasten each button instead. Snappily.

"Or we could go through a continuous series of kidnappings. And because of your violent tendencies, I'd have to keep a tight rein on you." Which means that Rodney finally got the goddamn shirt open and has gone back to holding Kolya's arms whilst his mouth explores his stomach, navel and the line of skin immediately above his waistband. Not that he isn't intimately familiar with it already. It's just a very good idea to keep up-to-date information of enemy territory.

"Somehow I doubt that would work well," the commander replies, tone confidently light. In all honesty, this would be the best time for a little more rolling - save for the fact that what Rodney is doing right now is really rather nice, and therefore there's every reason not to stop him.

"Oh, I don't know. Properly channelled energy and all." Rodney resettles, his weight shifted just to one side so he can reach between Kolya's legs with one hand, whilst he stares Kolya straight in the eyes, nose almost to nose. For someone so skittish, he can, at times, be remarkably unshakeable. He grins, top teeth tugging just a little at his bottom lip. "As long as you don't wear yourself out sparring, there's so much use it can all be put to."

"Wear myself out? Hardly likely. I always have enough energy properly channelled, just in case..."

His brain - amongst other things - is telling him to stay right where he is. Alas, alcohol has an odd way of interfering with instinct, and some of his instinct might be telling him to do something else.

As such, he moves the instant his sentence trails off. Rodney has a fairly good position and as a result it takes a very sudden burst of movement to ensure that they do, in fact, manage to roll. Quite a lot. Right into the tava.

Back on top - for the moment, at least - Kolya says, "...see?"

"Assuming your intention was to be for us both to be finding random bits of your planet in unexpected and inappropriate places that I'll _never_ be able to explain to Carson for the next short lifetime.... well. Congratulations."

Kolya might be on top. But Rodney knows _precisely_ where to put his knee. Minor topographical accidents do not bother genius.

"It was. Anything to make your return a little more... memorable."

Kolya isn't going to be distracted by tactical knee usage. Well. Not much.

"Well. I'd rather not let everyone in Atlantis know exactly what I do in my free time," Rodney says, hooking the leg between Kolya's around his ankle in an attempt to roll them over yet again. Alcohol has the tendency, amongst other things, to convincing people they are in fact much stronger than they are. Of course, in some cases they actually **are** a lot stronger than they think, and random inhibition loss can lead to... well. More... physical activity than usual.

They roll. Again. This time, however, Kolya is not merely anticipating it, but waiting for it too, and after a couple of complete revolutions, he manages to bring them to a halt whilst remaining on top.

"We appear to be flattening the tava," he says, in a faux-conspiratorial tone.

"Will you get your minion privileges revoked if people notice?" Rodney asks, not really giving Kolya time to answer before he's - well, shoving his tongue down the other man's throat.

It's interesting to note that making a noise of 'where the FUCK did that ear or prong or spear or whatever bit of tava just go?’ whilst so engaged, sounds something like the sound a drowning man makes when shot. So, it's one of the rare occasions it gets heard.

Kolya is about to say something in response, but is obviously unable to do so due to being otherwise occupied. Though, oddly enough, he _is_ aware of what it sounds like when a drowning man is shot - from a one-off, first-hand experience that he’s unlikely to mention any time soon. However, the recurrence of that particular memory is also deflected by the very enjoyable things Rodney happens to be doing with his tongue right about now.

When they finally break for air - something that they always seem to leave a little longer than seems safe - Kolya immediately starts yanking up Rodney's shirt, kissing across his chest, though he pauses long enough to finally say what he was trying to say a moment earlier.

"No-one could revoke my minion privileges and live to speak of it."

"You shouldn't make things sound challenging, you know," Rodney says, wriggling a little because, well. He's very sensitive and it tickles. "Telling people they can't makes them want to do it all the more." And to be obnoxious. And impertinent. And all sorts of other things Rodney can't help but enjoy being accused of, because... he is. Sometimes. Precocious.

He's probably clutching Kolya's sides under his open shirt hard enough to hurt, but he loosens one hand and slides it firmly and deliberately down the commander's spine and shoves his fingers as far under the top of Kolya's trousers as is physically possible. When drunk.

"You know I love a challenge," comes Kolya's easy reply. It's more than that though, of course - so much of his way of dealing with life's problems is down to being stubborn enough to out-stare anyone who tries arguing with him. And, most of the time, it works.

Violence usually deals with the exceptions to that rule.

Now, one of the most fascinating effects of alcohol is the appearance of a belief that if something was fun once, it is likely to be fun for the next ten or twelve times, and that repetition is the key to eternal happiness... or something.

And rolling is fun. But Kolya is also lucid enough to use other factors to his advantage.

Like, for instance, the current location of Rodney's wandering hand. This time, when they roll - **further** out into the tava - Kolya makes sure that Rodney ends up on top, but with his arm now pinned.

Hmmm. Interesting.

Psychological warfare is learned earlier in life than most people would care for, and whilst Rodney McKay may sometimes seem oblivious to certain aspects of it, he didn't leave education completely ignorant. Just because his hand is trapped in Kolya's trousers underneath the other man doesn't mean that he can't use it. To the contrary, it's essential that he keeps the blood circulating to stop pins and needles and all sorts of other nasty little things which Rodney could all too happily tell you about in greater detail than you ever thought possible. And so, purely for medical reasons, of course, he has to keep his hand moving. And it isn't **his** fault that his hand is **there** and that he's happened to recently have learned more about certain parts of masculine physiology. Not his fault whatsoever.

"You know we're very drunk," Rodney says, with the full resonance that only someone inebriated to the point of slow, careful statements can attain. His other hand is attempting to pin Kolya's shoulder, so that Rodney can drag his tongue over it, before deciding that what Kolya _really_ needs in life is for Rodney to bite and suck at his throat enough to leave a mark. The fact that neither of them are under the age of twenty matters nothing. It's a little unfortunate he's not got much practice at this particular game-plan - move - whatever.

Oh. Now that's interesting. Clearly this _was_ a good idea.

"Absolutely. Well aware of it. Trained observer, you know."

But let's just hope to... whatever extreme thing Genii tend to hope to... that none of this is going to be visible tomorrow. Or possibly later today. Hard to be sure.

Besides. Who needs time when you've got Rodney McKay doing **that**?

Now see, there's a very good reason for vampire movies. Rodney knows all about that. The blood and the sex and the threat of something powerful. Oh yes. Even though most of the time it was watered down drivel, or Sarah Michelle Gellar flicking her hair. But it was there, underneath, and he can see why (and Sarah Michelle Gellar's hair was still very nice too). Although Kolya won't be thinking the same things because he doesn't have Buffy here and with real things going around eating you with their hands, it may be less of a turn-on to mention undead things with sharp teeth. Which is a shame. But even without it, Kolya seems to rather enjoy it anyway.

Rodney takes a quick break to examine his own… efforts... and grins lopsidedly. If he were in his right mind, he would doubtless think he was acting like a randy college boy. And possibly, in the morning - or maybe a little later, when the headaches and the lights and the questions and the hugs and the scans are all done - he'll wince. But only a little.

"Did you bring more than that little bottle of rat poison?" he asks, trying to look innocent. As innocent as you can look whilst thoroughly tangled in someone in a field with most of your clothes unfastened and your hand in intimate places. "Which, just so you know, should be labelled a biochemical hazard."

"Alas, I did not," Kolya replies, his own voice fairly close to innocent. Well. Faux-innocent, anyway. "And it is not a biochemical hazard; merely... interesting. Sorts the men from the boys, and so on..."

Oh yes, that's a good idea, let's provoke the good doctor's competitive side again, shall we?

...And didn't I tell you to stop internally talking to yourself?

Rodney snorts. "The boys who keep trying to prove they are men by comparing the length of their dicks and how much alcohol they can stand before their ape-like metabolism gives way, while the more... intrallectual people are showing their superior problem-solving capa....bilities," he says, rather abruptly getting the better of the front of Kolya's trousers.

"We'll just have to improvise then, won't we?"

"Yes. Those," Kolya replies, perfectly calmly. Under normal circumstances, he a) would probably not have initiated this discussion in the first place, and b) if he had, would say more than two words in response.

But these are not normal circumstances. And, as so often happens when one has imbibed a lot of alcohol, he now wants more alcohol. Of course. Though he refrains from saying so because said alcohol is a good number of rolls back in the direction they've come, and excessive movement is perhaps too much to ask for.

This stuff does have a habit of really kicking in slightly later than one expects at first. Which is half the fun.

So now the commander smirks. "Improvisation is the second most interesting thing in life," he remarks.

"And the first is me?" Rodney asks, not one to shy from provocation either. On his knees, with both hands he rolls Kolya just enough to get his hand free, and pressed flat on the man's stomach in an attempt to keep him from moving, whilst he occupies his other hand with one of the things Rodney thinks is high up on the scale of interesting things.

"Or something else?" he asks, moving so he can watch Kolya's face with nigh-on unblinking fixation.

"...Well. I was going to say the first involved beating people with sticks... but you might just get me to change my mind."

And oh. That was definitely a challenge.

We won't go into the obvious reasons why Rodney, being male, had many years experience of this particular activity before he even came to the Pegasus galaxy, let alone met Acastus Kolya. Suffice it to say that a few weeks and a lot of free time has helped Rodney work out more or less how to make Kolya's toes curl. The fingers on his stomach scrunch up and down in a steady rhythm whilst his other hand starts off stroking his cock in slow, firm and oh-so-deliberately up and down, all the while keeping Kolya's eyes. He likes looking at Kolya's eyes, even if sometimes he has to look away. But not times like this. Times like this, even if he wants to look down, he somehow can't, and even if he knows he's giving far too much away he can't seem to stop himself.

"Beating people with sticks," Rodney says, the double-meaning rather obvious in his tone, "is prone to being somewhat... repetitive," he finishes, even though he internally cringes at the drivel coming out of his mouth. But that doesn't matter all that much because Rodney can talk shit for Canada, and it's more than what he says, because if it was just what he says then... what was he saying? Whatever it was, it's confused, and the logic of the thought is all gone. He wants to say something else, because he needs to talk, but he has absolutely no clue what to say at all. So he laughs instead.

"Sometimes... I like repetitive," Kolya breathes, although it's likely he's speaking on auto-pilot now. At his sides, his hands bunch in the half-flattened tava, and though his eyes almost want to roll up into his head, he keeps his gaze fixed on Rodney. There's something about that kind of contact - the connection on an emotional and mental level - which makes the physical aspect even more enticing. Plus, Rodney McKay has such wonderful eyes, and Kolya has grown to love watching them.

Oh, this was a good idea. A very, very good idea indeed.

"Sometimes. But change is good too." Which could be deeply superficial, or rather complicated. Possibly both. When Rodney stops speaking, he can hear all the night again - little noises, hardly there, almost covered by the sound of their breathing and the noise the tava makes when they move. And they are so very, very out. Outside. Not out.

Rodney's face feels hot against the cold of the night, and anywhere he touches Kolya feels hot too. He can feel the alcohol now, how it makes everything feel that little bit different to normal. He's aware he wants to slow down, but it seems an impossible task at the moment. He tries to think what to say, wondering if this would have worked better if Kolya wasn't male. Well, not in that sense. In the sense that it might have been easier to talk to him then - except that it wouldn't, because Rodney's nervous about the opposite gender too. And so instead: silence. A hand sliding from stomach to hip to thigh, urging one leg to bend just a little, all the while trying to follow the signs and responses Kolya makes to Rodney's other hand on his cock, stuck between wanting this all, this now, and knowing he should draw it out, but can't.

And. Rodney has to speak. Has to. But has nothing, just. "Acastus," which is his name and also not. Not the word that first comes to mind, but the one that best fits now and the one that kind of sits awkwardly but necessary on his tongue.

Any lingering attempt at eye-contact finally falls away at that, as Kolya lets his eyes drift closed, head arching back, vaguely aware of the sound of his own breathing against the backdrop of the night.

And of Rodney. Kolya moves into the rhythm a little; silently urging him - begging him - not to stop. He hears his name, and manages to breathe Rodney's in return, but any other attempt at coherence is well beyond reach.

Then he comes, a silent, unspoken ‘yes’ on his lips; bright, electric bliss rocking right through him, the whole world seeming to break in that one, incredible moment.

There really is no reasoning why people wriggling without the least bit of dignity, breathing all to the winds, faces flushed and stupid with pleasure should look anything other than idiotic. But usually, if another person is similarly biologically distracted, there's no better sight in all the world.

Some impulse strikes him, and Rodney leans over to kiss Kolya's brow. His hand keeps moving over too-sensitive skin for a moment longer - two - and then he shifts his weight to the other side and swaps hands. With one he rubs circles on Kolya's stomach, lightly strokes between his legs, cupping his sac in his palm as his fingers stroke behind. It really, really helps when you're given a crash course in this by someone with more experience than yourself, although he wouldn't admit to that aloud. And hell, why hadn't his girlfriends known about some of it?

Now the whole process seems ridiculous again, and Rodney can't really believe he's even thinking of... even thinking so much about everything like this because surely not everyone thinks about it in this depth and obsesses over the slightest thing... His other - damp - hand he drags across Kolya's backside, fingers pushing between the cleft. And he looks... bashfully intent. "What... I mean, what do you want? I... well I just thought I'd ask because I didn't want you to think I didn't want to do what you want and either way I'm sure we could both do what we want so... there." Well-meaning fool at times. But far too open-honest to be at all annoying. Most of the time.

In response to this, Kolya gives Rodney a long, intense look that holds a shocking number of silent words - words that can, however, be summed up in the mere three he manages to speak through the enduring mental haze.

"Please... don't stop."

Though his whole body currently feels blissfully leaden, he raises one hand from where it has been lying amidst the tava, grasping the side of Rodney's head, fingers trailing through his hair.

Rodney nods, "Okay." Right. Okay. Yes. He can do this. Well, of course he can. Blind fingers push and rub gently, trying to be as careful as possible. Kolya's relaxed, which makes this easier, and it's really a little disturbing how easy it is to slide two fingers in and out which still seems ridiculous to him in a way. It's all... well, completely different to putting fingers in someone female and it's tighter and weirder. Once he's sure he's not going to accidentally kill Kolya like this, he starts to ease his fingers in and out, trying to work out the best places to make Kolya's legs shake. His own arousal he's doing his best to ignore, because he has this horrible feeling he'll be like a clumsy fumbling teenager and leave the party before the music is even turned on. He does, however, lean forward so it at least gets to meet skin before it starts to yell for attention.

It's difficult to concentrate on anything other than what his hand is doing and what his cock is grunting at him and on just how damn hot Kolya looks like this. Because he does. He looks frighteningly like he belongs here like this, but that's probably got something to do with Dagan. Rodney's making a little noise of concentration, completely unaware of it, his focus tending towards just this and nothing else. And then Rodney has a wonderful idea what his other hand can do, and he shifts so he can comfortably hold Kolya's little Kolya - he really was going to have to stop thinking of names for them - and reach around to guide his own, so he can rub both of them together when he moves. Which is a wonderful idea. Genius of a plan, if he does say so himself. And a dreadfully distracting pastime. But fun. Oh so much fun. Which is why suddenly he's saying all sorts of nonsense.

It's probably a good idea that Kolya is completely unaware of the good doctor's latest attempt at naming things. Although coming from a man who tends towards excessive capitalisation, that might not be entirely fair. But still.

As it is, of course, he is totally and utterly oblivious to anything apart from Rodney, and what he's doing, and how soul-wrenchingly wonderful he feels right now. Normally, in situations of this variety, the commander has a tendency to be very... involved, but in this moment, he's not sure he could move much if he wanted to.

Then Rodney does **that** , and suddenly there are half-whispered words tumbling out of Kolya's mouth too, most barely passing for coherent, but all passing for something way beyond happy. The palm he still has on the side of Rodney's face now drops to rest over his hand, moving with it.

He manages to keep his eyes open, though; fixing his gaze on Rodney's face. In all honesty, he'd be lost in the other man's expression, now, were he not... otherwise occupied.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," says Rodney, sounding almost terrified, voice breaking and hoarse and dissolving into a whimper.

The part of him that was trying to think ahead wasn't thinking at all of this, but sometimes the sudden epiphany is much better than anything you'd previously set your mind on, and although he'd love to tease, torment and stimulate an already relaxed Kolya until both of them couldn't take a moment more, all that goes out the window. Somehow he manages to remember that he has two hands, even though there's not a hope of finding a rhythm between them, because all of a sudden he's ramming his fingers hard into Kolya with a desperation that's worrying. His fingers manage to find Kolya's properly and then all remaining logical thought is thrown out the window and all he can do is moan and fuck and fuck because it's his dick and Kolya's dick and dicks are really, really, wonderful and hot and hard and wet and jerking and then with a strangled noise he's coming and it's almost too much, but he can't pull back because Kolya's hand is there too and Kolya's there and...

"Mngk," he says, intelligently, and then all but collapses on Kolya, panting and dizzy and very, very, very happily out of his mind.

Kolya doesn't let go of Rodney until the last waves have passed, and then he drops back on the ground, gasping heavily - and now feeling **certain** that he couldn't move even if he wanted to. Head back, he blinks at the night, suddenly hyper-aware of everything - the coolness of the air, the gentle glittering of the stars, the warm, welcome weight of Rodney lying on his chest.

"That was... that... was..."

Yep. Totally, utterly lost for words. Quite an achievement, really.

"I think I died," Rodney says, sounding just as... out of touch. A groan, and then he manages to extricate his hands so he can curl fingers around Kolya's shoulder. "That... should happen more often." He moves just a bit - enough that he's not putting his entire weight on Kolya, and so neither of them is poking elbows. And then he's nuzzling his face against Kolya's.

And then he remembers he's leaving again, and hugs Kolya all the tighter, trying not to cry against his cheek.

"Oh yes," Kolya breathes, finally managing to reach something like coherence at last. "It should." Especially outdoors. Because the commander has long held the view that sex outdoors would be a very, very good idea indeed. Nice to be proven right.

As Rodney huddles closer, Kolya wraps an arm around him, fingers trailing through his hair again - desperate only to prolong this moment for as long as possible.

The Canadian merely lies there, face resting against Kolya's, slowly relaxing and feeling the blurring when you keep contact long enough, when you can't exactly tell where you stop and they start.

"You do realise all the damned farmer-planets are now going to be ruined even more for me, don't you? It was bad enough thinking they'd spin their hoes around into rail guns, but now I'm going to think of this every time too."

Kolya grins at this. "Always good to keep things interesting, wherever one goes," he remarks, as if lightly - but the truth is, the idea of Rodney frequently being reminded of tonight is rather a nice one.

"You can explain to Sheppard why I go bright red then," Rodney says, wryly. "Actually he might never forgive you or look at me again if you told him **that**."

"Maybe I will," Kolya replies, even more wryly, deliberately choosing not to say any more right now. The whole Sheppard-issue is going to be a difficult one, when they finally have to face it.

Rodney sighs, then shivers. Scientists are not made for nocturnal exposure. Most of them aren't made for exposure at all. "If you do, you'll have to put up with him flirting even worse with any woman in a hundred mile radius of him when you're around. And me, too."

"The colonel is welcome to flirt with as many women as he likes," Kolya says, flatly. "You, on the other hand, are mine."

Possibly the mind-blowing outdoors sex is making him particularly possessive... or possibly, it's merely that he is, in fact, particularly possessive.

Rodney blinks. He hadn't, actually, been thinking of flirting with anyone at all. Well. Maybe with... no. Really not.

...apart from Colonel Carter, maybe, but more in the line of showing her what she was missing and how he's much better off as he is, even if Kolya isn't blonde.

"You probably haven't realised," Rodney points out, as levelly as he can, "that I am not, actually, over-whelmed with propositions." Which is ignoring the issue entirely. But... well. But.

"I can't imagine why," Kolya replies, keeping his tone completely neutral - which is a feat, really, after all that alcohol. And as such, it's hard to be sure whether he's teasing, or expressing genuine surprise.

Rodney scowls. It's something of a sore point, and thinking about Carter brings up other sore points. And EMPs.

"Anyway. Unless Colonel Carter is around, I'll be too busy to indulge any of my subordinates' power fantasies." Which is in no way meant to provoke. Nope.

It is a sad - but true - fact of life that Kolya has never been very good at staying still for extended periods of time. It is an equally sad - and even truer - fact of life that one of the few areas where he can be easily provoked is in matters of emotional attachment.

This would be one reason why he spent his first hours post-Planet of the Dinosaurs shooting at people. Though not the only one, of course.

Combining these two facts will serve to explain why, after a carefully-timed pause, Kolya suddenly rolls them to the side, pinning Rodney to the tava-strewn ground. "One would think, my dear doctor, that you were trying to provoke me," he states levelly, managing to keep most of his emotions out of sight in order to make himself harder to read.

That use of title, not name, is significant too. Deliberate, naturally, but still significant. He is, after all, probably just teasing. Probably.

Rodney looks sulky. Quite why he looks sulky when - for once - someone actually _is_ showing an interest in him and it's only because he's reminded of people who don't... but Rodneys, like Quantum Mechanics, do not have to make logical sense.

"God forbid I would try to do **that** ," Rodney says. And to miss the sarcasm, which is practically dripping from every syllable – you would have to be completely tone deaf.

"Why. What would you do if I _did_ have an admirer?" he asks. His expression is level, and he doesn't look down once in embarrassment. Which probably says a lot. He tries to set his jaw and look impassive, but the underlying... worry isn't too well hidden. Rodney isn't often one to hide things, even if he is acting like an ass. And he's not entirely sure he wants to hide... well he does want to hide the fact he's horrendously insecure, because it isn't really something horrendously insecure people tend to broadcast. Well. Not normally.

Some things can be changed over time. Some remain immutable. And one of the most completely unchangeable things about Kolya is his ability to be extremely scary, in a worryingly large variety of ways.

"Have a conversation with them," he replies, without hesitation, without emotion, and without leaving any room for doubt that the word 'conversation' does not mean 'polite chat over a drink or two.'

For some stupid reason, Rodney's danger sensors have never really worked properly around Kolya. Well, they work all right, and he can see how certain things are a bad idea, but it doesn't stop him yelling and cursing and demanding things like knives and lying about things like shield generators or leaping in front of guns. Even though he could have been killed, and most certainly was hurt. On numerous occasions.

Well, the gun thing was slightly different. That had been frightening, but Elizabeth was more important than frightening.

Really, really stupidly not intimidated at all. He lifts his chin, just as stupidly confident the situation wouldn't even occur anyway.

"And what if somebody decides to make advances on you?" he asks. Bluntly.

"I will most likely break both their kneecaps."

The commander really ought to blink soon. He's probably giving the wrong impression.

"Don't you ever get in trouble for that? I mean, at this rate, it would probably be easier for you to defect and kill the Wraith by friendly fire."

Really, really stupid. Or brave. But probably stupid.

Of course Kolya gets into trouble - if and when people find out. The fact of the matter is that threats generally get the job done, and most of those who do end up kneecapped are either enemies of the state or were really, really asking for it. And usually, he's got a good enough excuse to fall back on if all else fails.

But that's the sensible answer. And this conversation really isn't about the sensible answer.

So he shrugs. "Naturally. But they rarely find the bodies, so I don't tend to worry about it."

"So I should warn Atlantis that if they hear screaming and then don't see me again to act out my last will and testament, then?"

Rodney really does not like the idea of being shot by someone on his side. Well, he doesn't like the idea of being shot at at all. But that would be even worse.

Only now does Kolya's voice drop, an almost dangerous edge creeping in. "Oh, now you are someone I'd _much_ prefer to keep alive."

"Wonderful. Torture. Just what I've always wanted. Right up there with bits dropping off of me from over-exposure to radiation, a career teaching elementary school children English and having to look after my senile - but still murderous - parents. Scrap that. If I scream and then vanish, I'll have them come find me."

"Who said anything about letting you scream?"

For the love of all that is good and tava-related, someone stop him right now.

"Who said you'd be able to stop me?" Rodney asks. "People have tried to stop me in the past, but if I want to make a noise, I make one." It's a matter of pride now, and Rodney has that in abundance.

"So I've noticed. But you do know how I love a challenge."

You can only annoy a man so much before he snaps. And Rodney snaps. Which means he violently tries to flip Kolya on his back, snarling. Quite frankly, no matter who is where, seeing Rodney in full McKay Dysfunctional Family mode is... an experience in and of itself.

"Shut up. Shut up **now**. Before you make it worse or one of us ends up hurt." In one way or another. "It isn't my fault I'm going. If it's anyone's fault it's that bastard who thought it would be fun to keep trying to double-cross us. So just. SHUT. UP."

Rodney can be rather disturbingly loud. It's a family trait.

Considering that most of this conversation has not been meant as anything close to serious, Rodney's reaction comes as rather a shock. Kolya manages to stop himself from immediately yelling in reply, because he knows it's pointless - not to mention damaging - and because he knows exactly why Rodney is over-reacting.

Whilst there are a number of responses - with varying degrees of reason to voice - that he could give, Kolya decides to say nothing at all. Because he's not going to be baited into a pointless argument designed solely to detract from the fact that neither of them is happy about Rodney's imminent departure.

And so, on his back again, Kolya merely stares, keeping eye contact. All other sensible reasons aside, silence can also be very unnerving.

Rodney looks hurt, then rolls off Kolya. And then stands up, walking a few paces into the tava. And then he kicks it, because he is not going to cry. Not in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere.

Of course, standing up in a field in the middle of nowhere means suddenly remembering _quite_ how cold it is, and there's no longer any pleasant alcohol-warmth or Genii-warmth to help. So he wraps his arms around himself, pulling his clothing to cover his decency and his cold, and curses himself rather violently, and mostly silently.

He knows full well he's being stupid. But he isn't the only one, which vindicates him a little. Not a lot. Because if he had any sense he would never have got upset in the first place. But a little.

He's determined not to say anything until Kolya does. At the minute, anyway. And if he knew the way back, he'd have stormed inside and into Jerran's room by now, to avoid letting his foul mood make this any worse, and to piss Kolya off more, too. Which is also very adult of him.

Oh dear. This is not good. Really, really not good. Kolya lies where he is for a moment, thinking. Life can be extremely awkward when you know all your usual means of conflict resolution would be exceptionally unwise.

Then he moves - and yes, he too notes that it is rather cold. So the silence is prolonged whilst he drags on assorted items of clothing - enough so that he is not, in fact, wandering round a field of half-flattened tava whilst lingeringly intoxicated, emotionally unstable, and somewhat naked.

Finally, he stands, walking over to where Rodney is and wrapping an arm around his shoulders from behind. "I'm going to miss you, too," he whispers.

Rodney cries. Rodney cries a lot for a man who doesn't cry and doesn't 'faint' because they aren't manly things to do, and it makes him feel... makes him feel like he's back in his parents' house, where everything returns if you give it time enough. Always, always, always returning there, to explain, excuse and hide.

Then Rodney turns, in a fit of unusual but sudden violence and punches Kolya in the side. Which, if he were in his right mind, he would realise is a very bad idea. It's entirely possible he still does realise this is a very bad idea, and that's precisely why he's doing it. But then he's not hitting, but grabbing hold of him as tightly as he can, yanking the other man almost off his feet in his attempt to pin his arms in a bear-hug just as powerful as his yelling.

"It isn't **fair** ," Rodney insists, even though his voice is cracking and wet. "It's stupid. The first time someone actually wants me around and isn't just sleeping with me because I'm rude or brilliant and it has to be **you**."

It takes a minute to realise that might not have come out as well as it did in his head. "I mean, you're working for people with about as much diplomatic skill as Sheppard, happen to be unmistakably not-female and are an utter, utter bastard. And it's **you** and I still can't have you." That might also not have been very diplomatic either. Nor are the floods of noisy, sniffy tears doing anything to help the matter.

...why does he **never** remember that alcohol, while pleasant at the time, has the remarkable ability to reduce him to a yelling, sobbing wreck? You'd think someone as intelligent as him would have recognised cause and effect after all this time.

And at all this, Kolya looks... well. More hurt than he has in a long time. More hurt than he will usually admit to and certainly more hurt than he wants to let on.

"I'm sorry I am the best that fate deigned to offer you," he says, voice level and neutral and so, so close to cracking. "I am not sorry for my people or for who I am because believing in those things has been the only constant in my life. Nor am I sorry for how I feel about you, because you saved my life on a mental, emotional and literal level and if it wasn't for you I would very probably be dead by now."

"And I'm not going to ask you to apologise for your best friend, the frequently-mentioned Colonel Sheppard, who is single-handedly responsible for killing most of the people in my life who I was on speaking terms with, aside of course from my own former best friend who will likely never speak to me again on account of the fact that I am totally, completely and utterly _in love with **you**_!"

Rodney lets go halfway through Kolya's rant and states at him in utter disbelief. How in the... okay. Maybe he wasn't very clear.

"That isn't what I meant," Rodney says, voice half-wounded, half-apologetic. "I meant, I hate the fact you're Genii because it makes all this more difficult and I can't just storm in and tell everyone to hell with it. I'd do it," he says, "if I thought there was any chance you wouldn't be shot on sight, or life made hell for you because of what happened.

"And I'm not going to apologise for John Sheppard, because as we've already shown," he says, with a sad little bitter note, "he isn't that much different from you, so you have no right objecting to me liking him. He happens to be one of the few people who actually talks to me like a real person - most of the time - and doesn't look down his nose on me because I spent my time in labs and not in gyms. And anyway, if we're bringing up friends, I didn't complain about _Athos_ , even when he told me he wanted me dead when I went to apologise to him on your behalf."

Stop. Breath. "You are a bastard. But you can probably say the same thing about me. In fact, I don't know anyone who isn't, but you manage to make me want to scream more than most, and I have no idea if it's because I just want to kiss you senseless or if it's because you manage to push some... some little switch," he waves a hand over the back of his neck, "and make me want to kill you because... I don't know why! The only other people who ever annoyed me as much as you do are my **parents.** Okay? Fine. If that's what love is then I love you. And if it isn't, I have no idea what is, or what **it**... this... **thing** is."

At the end of which, he looks rather flushed. He pulls down the edges of his shirt further, trying to maintain some dignity and warmth. And then, because Rodney wouldn't recognise a good time to stop if it bit him on the ass, "When did I save your life, anyway? Not that it's really important or anything..."

For a long moment, Kolya is about to launch right into another tirade - and then he stops. Pauses. Breathes. "This is pointless," he says. "Why are we yelling at each other? What possible point could there be to any of it? Either you want this, or you don't. And if you don't - if you can't accept me, or my people, or my past, my ideals, my methods, my beliefs, any of it - then walk away. But if you can see beyond the utter disaster of that accursed storm, of Dagan, of that wretched, wretched, carnivore-infested planet... then please, in the name of whatever you believe in, just tell me that tomorrow might not be the last day I ever get to see you."

He's practically shaking now, well beyond any lingering attempts at emotional control. Beside Rodney, the only other person who's ever seen him like this is Athos - and things didn't go well that time, so it would really help to stop thinking about it. Furthermore? Athos is getting a visit when Kolya gets ten minutes alone. A visit, and a very firm blow to the head, until every detail of Athos' little discussion with Rodney is laid out nice and clear. And that, of course, is likely to lead to further reaction on Kolya's part.

"...on that Wraith ship," he adds, suddenly quieter. "I would never have escaped from that hiveship without you. And then again, when we returned. Being with you... with someone who genuinely seemed to care... helped me put my life back together."

Oh. **That** is honesty. Honesty so real it hurts. Kolya looks dangerously close to breaking down, now - which is something he, as a rule, does not do.

Rodney makes a choked noise of surprise. "If I **wasn't** prepared to do this, I wouldn't be here right now," Rodney points out. "I've worked for a different country's 'defence' organisation most of my life. I don't have much moral ground to stand on. Other than I've only ever shot... A few Wraith and Ford." His eyes roll up as he tries to count. "As far as I can remember at this minute anyway," he clarifies.

In a too-fast move, suddenly he has hold of the front of Kolya's shirt and drags him in, biting his lip. "Now can we stop talking about why this sucks - well, not sucks... is problematic - and get back to why we're doing it anyway?" he asks. "I don't want to go home mad at you."

Kolya wraps his arms around Rodney, holding on to him with sudden, almost worried desperation. "There's something important you're not telling me," he begins, "and I need you to say it, because otherwise..." Pause. Breathe. Don't lose the honesty-thing. "I've upset you and I don't know **why**..."

He hasn't sounded so unsettled since the incident with Athos... but this is different. Worse, maybe. He's seen what happens when you don't talk things through, seen what happens if he asks the wrong questions or gets the wrong idea. The fact is, Kolya simply doesn't handle this kind of thing at all well; which is, of course, sadly obvious by now. Ironic, really, for a man of his job description - but there is a distinct and difficult difference between being able to break people and being able to fix them; between being able to upset them and being able to work out exactly _why_ they're upset.

_Honesty. **Honesty!**_

"...and it scares me."

Oh look. Meaningful Conversation Territory. How we missed you.

Rodney shakes his head and sniffs back the unmanly wet, which is really rather embarrassing and very, very unpleasant. He shakes his head some more. "There's nothing. Well. I say nothing but obviously... it's... it's the alcohol," he says, miserable. "I... Well. It tends to bring out the worst in me."

"I told you," he says, the self-deprecation now giving way very happily to self-hatred. "I'm not very good at this... talking to people thing. It's one of the few things other than my bad health I got from my parents. We don't..." a complicated hand-gesture that sums the idea, mood, concept up... but is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn't Rodney... "react well to other people."

"It's... it isn't your fault. Well, it is. But it isn't. I just... don't know how to... how to... act, what to say and..." He stops, taking deep breaths to stop the words slurring into one another on his tongue. "I get... frustrated and angry and I snap and... everything anyone says isn't right and I just want... everyone to go away because I'm... I don't like people seeing..."

Which is about the time he stops being able to express himself at all and hits Kolya again - this time flat, open-handed on the arm, something that makes more noise than anything else, and doesn't hurt at all. It's more to **do** something than anything else, because he can't **say** anything.

"I... can't," he says at last, forcing his tongue against his teeth. "I can't. If I start, I won't stop. And I... don't want to do that again. Please. Just tell me I haven't ruined everything. It's so stupid of me, but I... am stupid. I hate it. I ruin everything and I can't stop."

Kolya... listens. If nothing else, he can always do that. When Rodney finally falls silent, he says, "You haven't ruined everything. Far from it. And I... I understand what you're saying. Perhaps more than you realise. I have never been good at really expressing my own feelings. It's... something both my job and my life have taught me to be wary of - and then, when I finally try, it ends up... wrong."

Oh, right. Because _that's_ clear, isn't it?

Rodney only sighs heavily at that, not letting go either. He sniffs. "Some people tell me I'm doing it on purpose but if I am it's not... I don't aim to go around insulting everyone. It just happens. A lot of the time I don't even see why what I'm saying is wrong, and then when people get angry with me, I get angry too."

A little calmer, he tries again to explain. "I don't express myself very well. When it's about things I'm feeling, not... science. Science has... laws and orders and classifications and systems. Kate says I have interpersonal difficulties because... actually I don't know why because. I always assumed it was because I was much more intelligent than everyone else, and that I didn't understand them because they were weird and went around screaming at one another and me for no reason I could figure out."

"I am angry," he admits, "because I hate this whole stupid mess we're stuck in. And because I... I have a history of... not. Not forming normal relationships. And not **any** under these kinds of circumstances, which aren't exactly ideal."

He pulls back just enough to catch Kolya's eyes, although the contact is flickering and slight. "Just... just forget all of that. Please. I'm drunk and barely dressed in the middle of a fucking field and I'm _leaving_ and I just want you to realise how... idiotically terrifying this all is. But... it's what I want and I want you to know that and not think I'm going to... run off with anybody, because... I won't. Okay?" Another sniff. At least that had less stammering in.

Ironically, after all that, the slightest smile crosses Kolya's face - though it's an extremely self-aware expression. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?" he remarks. "Neither of us any good at saying what we mean, both of us very good at over-reacting when matters are slightly unclear, and no way of telling where we went wrong."

He shakes his head, holding Rodney closer, then pulling back just enough to meet his eyes once more. "I know this isn't easy and I know matters could be a lot better, but the fact that we've got this far is more than I could ever have hoped for. And trust me, I understand that you're afraid. You aren't the only one. A few months ago, a hiveship full of Wraith dropped on my homeworld, and I promise you, I was far less afraid then than I am now. I am more afraid of losing this, losing you, than I seem able to process."

"And I know you aren't going to run off with anybody. I never meant to imply that you might. You told me once that you trusted me... and I swear that I trust you as well."

Rodney wipes his nose and eyes with his sleeve, trying to get a grip on himself. He snorts at Kolya's reply.

"Well. We're still several steps ahead of most of the couples I know," he points out, sad-wry. "And I don't think I'd ever resort to cutting up your clothes or throwing out your sticks and knives or anything." Which is Rodney-speak for... well. Lots of things. Including: I won't cut up your clothes or throw out your knives and sticks.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says. "Unless there's some planet full of orphan children and no one else can save them or something. Oh, wait. I already saved them. And if some bastard tries to kill me, I plan on ascending to a higher level of existence anyway. Not the one the Ancients are on, because that one sucks and they're a whole lot of hypocrites."

"Anyway." Shift. Look at something off to the side. "Unless I do end up dead and haunting you as some astral projection... which isn't my first choice at all... You're not going to manage to get rid of me very easily. McKays are stubborn. Now can we do something that won't make me a liar and kill me from exposure? My extremities are turning blue, and I prefer them pink."

"Please do try not to die," Kolya says, doing his best to keep his tone light. "I imagine that relationships with astral projections are somewhat challenging."

Then he gestures in the direction of the forest again. "Come on. We should go inside before I decide to think of a more creative way to warm you up." Or before I start talking some more. Because that is clearly a lot riskier than I'm willing to chance twice in one night.

Plus, he's starting to think beyond the moment again - and that usually means he's thinking about how helpful it would be to find someone to duel with. Though not now.

"Oh, I know people who have had relationships with Ascended beings. At least two people." Both people he likes, too. Carter and Sheppard. He manages not to put his foot in **that** though. "And though no one gave me details, I'm guessing it wasn't just sparkling lights and moving conversations."

"As much as I like creative, I think I'd rather be in bed, now. If I don't sleep comfortably my back will hurt tomorrow." Moving would require he stops clinging though, and he doesn't want to physically let go in case something happens and he manages to upset Kolya again. But he doesn't explain why he isn't moving. Because.

"Don't you die either. It's very important not to. If you do, I might start thinking you don't like me again." Which is also a non-eloquent way of saying something else.

"Survival," Kolya says, tone more than a little wry now, "is another trait of mine." Which is his way of saying that he'll make every effort to stay alive - but also, that he has a habit of being one of the very few left standing after certain... incidents, regardless of how he might have wanted things to turn out.

He doesn't move yet, either - guessing why Rodney must be hesitant to do so, and deciding to give him time, if that's what he needs. Plus, the clinging is... nice.

If Rodney pretends he hasn't noticed they haven't moved, then he doesn't have to feel like he should mention it, and Kolya can't blame him for the not moving. Also, he's still trying hard not to explode in anger again, or start complaining more. Or worse. So. Still. Still is good.

Still good.

But they can't stay here forever. That much is evident. Painfully ironic, too.

"Come on," Kolya says again, quietly, before finally starting to move.

Rodney makes a noise of assent. And then, because he has to, steps back so they can walk.

Turning now, Kolya starts to head back across the tava. A rather large section of it is... out of commission, and he wonders, almost idly, what the reaction to this will be. Somehow, he doubts that any of the rumours that inevitably arise will be close to accurate.

He retrieves the remainder of his clothing from where it is strewn on the ground, before he heads over to the edge of the field - where the bottle of extremely strong alcohol still lies amongst the grass.

And internally, he's shaking his head at himself. There is a _reason_ why he rarely drinks any kind of intoxicants.

Fortunately Rodney didn't take much of anything off, so there isn't much for him to pick up. Apart from his pride, which is somewhere in the tava.

He waits until Kolya gives the signal to go, because he's now utterly lost again. It all looks like fields to him.

Kolya waves at Rodney to follow, but once he's headed a few paces into the trees, he pauses and waits for the other man to catch up, before moving on again. The path through the forest seems darker now - perhaps because they've got the moon behind them this time, and perhaps because of the mood.

Awkward. Awkward. Is this all his fault? He wants to believe that it isn't... but the doubt will not go away, and there's probably good reason for that.

Rodney follows close on Kolya’s heels, not wanting to get lost. But the following makes him feel all chastised puppy. He doesn't, however, run to catch up. Because that would lead to more awkward interaction. So. Woof.

They're not talking again. Not talking. Not speaking. The situation is so familiar that it hurts, and the more Kolya thinks about it, the more he's aware of it, the worse it feels. But he doesn't know what to say, and the more he dwells on _that_ , the more he _still_ doesn't know what to say.

He's a man of action, not words. Action?

It's hard to know exactly which thought among the many actually prompts him to do what he does - and considering how much he's overthinking, there are a lot of possibilities. But whatever it is, it's clearly very motivational, because, with the kind of acute suddenness he so often relies on, Kolya moves, pushing Rodney firmly but not harshly against the nearest tree, and immediately kissing him. Partly because he wants to, naturally, but also partly so there's less chance of the action being misunderstood. Again.

The sudden movement catches Rodney entirely off-guard. He'd been so caught up in rolling around the past... however long... of hell that he didn't see a thing. It catches him by surprise, but he's not long confused, and his hands come up and try to stay still on the other man's collar, struggling and moving to his face instead, fingers along his jaw, keeping him in close.

McKays, amongst many, many other things, are prone to extreme enthusiasm in everything they do. Be it shouting or insulting or thinking and being a genius or kissing. So he throws just as much force - maybe more - into kissing Kolya back, like he's a starving man and he's never eaten in his life. There's a low, deep noise of need, which he isn't even aware he's making. But he is. For a pair of completely useless emotional communicators, they seem to be doing rather well with this form of communication. Again. Which is fortunate, really.

And after everything that's been happening, that response... oh, that positive response is everything. More than everything. It _redefines_ the very meaning of 'everything.'

What a thing to think. Kolya might actually be smirking at himself were he not otherwise occupied. And considering that he really, really is, there will be no distractions. Oh no.

He keeps one hand on Rodney's chest, fingers bunching in the fabric of his shirt, and brushes the other palm over the doctor's cheek, all the while leaning into the kiss with something that the word 'desperation' only begins to cover.

Rodney has hold of Kolya's face and nothing short of a.... well actually maybe not even a hiveship landing would make a difference. If the Wraith came by now, he would snarl at them until they left him alone. Rodney kisses him. And kisses him. And kisses him until he's sure he's going to pass out, and then stops just long enough to breathe between kissing him repeatedly even more, shuddering in relief.

If he were in the mood for self-awareness, he might question why all the talking in the world doesn't help, but somehow this makes up for **everything**. But he isn't.

Oh, denial. Denial helps. On so many levels. Though if Rodney did ask that question, Kolya might well say that sometimes, a clear action says more than clumsy words ever could.

In their case, it probably does.

Being in absolutely no hurry to leave the world of action for the world of words again, Kolya never lets the breaks for air last any longer than necessary to avoid passing out, constantly moving into the remarkably dynamic kiss.

Also? They're in a forest. And up against a tree. And if Kolya didn't know better, he'd swear reality was doing this to him deliberately. On the plus side, however, it removes some of the bad associations with trees that a certain Planet is entirely responsible for.

Eventually, Rodney's speech instinct kicks back in, after a long and arduous fight. Hands on Kolya's cheeks, he tilts his head down just a little, so he can stop kissing for a moment or two. Nose to nose, because he needs proximity almost more than anything.

"Look. I... this is a bad time I know... I just. I wanted to say that the yelling might have been partially my fault - well, actually was..." his hands move to cup Kolya's face, to hold him so they can see eye to eye again, and he tries not to waver. "What I think I mean is... well." Expression is difficult at the best times. Worse when you don't even know what you mean. And so, because he can't, he rocks onto the balls of his feet, slides one hand around the back of Kolya's head, fingers gripping hair, and then his mouth is on Kolya's again, and Rodney's treating this with about as much care and detailed attention as he would constructing an atomic bomb. Or has treated the construction of atomic bombs. Anyway, what matters is that he stops any holding back he might have been doing and... it's like something gives way inside of his head that he never knew was damned, and his whole body feels suddenly free.

And then he almost does pass out from lack of air, and slightly woozily leans into the other man for support. He's given up even thinking of using words now, hoping instead he can make himself understood more easily like this. And it's written on his face, suddenly, how guards are down and he's... feeling strangely bare, despite all the clothes.

Arms wrapped around Rodney to hold him up, Kolya says nothing yet - though he's listening. Oh yes. Every word, every breath, every minute sound. He's normally observant without even needing to think about it, but this is bordering on hyper-observant, the tiniest details sensed, noted, savoured.

And that look in the doctor's eyes is... different, somehow, from all the others Kolya has seen, holding some level of emotional honesty that not even Rodney McKay seems to have shown before. Kolya does so love emotional honesty, even if he himself is rather bad at it - and this look hits him right at the core, spiralling right through him in a sudden wave.

"It's all right," he whispers, finally. "We over-reacted. But now... I just need you to know how much you mean to me." And to prove it, he holds on tighter, as if determined to prevent nothing breaking them apart.

There's a pause as Rodney thinks and digests - each action so deliberate, even though it feels like everything's too much to process, he tries. And then he nods. Nods yes.

Slowly, as he drags the words out to shape the form he's feeling, he replies: "I haven't really felt alone before. When people weren't around. Of course, I missed the sex or the food or the talking and not being alone... but I miss you and I'm not even gone yet." He smiles, wryly. "I'm going to be tearing into the walls when I finally get back. I think... I think it's that that scares me most. And god knows who I can talk to."

There's nothing but breath for a while. Warm and fogging on the air. "I feel sorry for whoever has to put up with you, when I'm gone, too." It's not meant mean nor as a tease, just one of those statement of facts Rodney rarely sees the point to edit. He lets his hands move so they're wrapping around Kolya's hips, hands brushing behind his back. "We're both acting like the idiotic teenagers I used to promise I'd never emulate." That, however, comes with the wryness of a thought-through comment. He doesn't seem too worried by the fact, either.

Something close to a self-aware grin crosses Kolya's face now. "You mean you don't feel sorry for them all the time?" he asks. Which is a fair enough point. He does have a habit of making his emotional states more obvious when he can beat people with a stick at the same time.

Some might call that shallow. But he knows, naturally, that it's just good tactics.

He runs one hand up Rodney's chest, letting it come to rest on his shoulder; the other staying still against his elbow. In all honesty, he could happily stay here for a very long time - cold or not.

"Only some of them. Some of them are asking for everything you give them and more." Without mentioning names. Although it is most definitely plural. And there are still plenty of Genii Rodney just plain doesn't like, and probably never will. But the same goes for Americans, too.

Rodney is slightly less cold, on account of being pinned to a tree and having a commander wrapped around him. Both of which make him warm, in more ways than one. And the sooner they go back to Kolya's room, the sooner he is gone. So. Here. Limbo.

Words rise and die on his lips, not one of them even coming close to anything he'd want to say. So he doesn't. For the minute. Most of his thoughts are of things he can show Kolya when they're next together. Some of his shows are out, but some others, maybe. And possibly a few games if he's that way inclined. Although digital violence isn't probably anywhere near the same.

Kolya's grin broadens, hand drifting from Rodney's shoulder to his jawline, thumb tracing along it. "Yes, they are," he says, voice taking on a low and confidently deliberate edge that can generally be translated to mean one of two things: imminent violence, or imminent sex.

Guess which it is most likely to be right now?

The fact of the matter is, he's spent far too long playing 'what if?' with certain less alarming memories from the Planet - and most of them involve trees. And whilst this is not the Planet, the lack of ferocious dinosaurs might be a bonus, all things considered.

He leans in, kissing Rodney once more, hand wandering obviously down his side, eyes never once leaving the other man's. Well. Maybe fate **is** doing this to him deliberately.

Maybe tonight he likes fate.

Maybe, for the moment, fate likes him, too.

***

Mornings after are invariably a bad thing. If nothing else, they are the first clear indication that whatever came before is now over. Usually, of course, they also involve unwelcome levels of pain, guilt, and tiredness, no matter how long one slept for.

This morning after has an additional, very, very major factor adding to its weight.

This morning is _that_ morning. **The** morning.

When Kolya first wakes up, he's lying in his own bed, arm wrapped around Rodney. This is always a good sign. Waking up alone or in an unexpected location is usually an indication that something went wrong at some point.

His head feels... not so much painful as just uncomfortable. Because, whilst he drank rather a lot, he did at least manage to pace it somewhat. And, of course, realising this leads into the inevitable mental re-run of everything **else** he did last night.

Rodney. Tava. Stars. Tree. Tree. **Lots** of memories of the tree, and Rodney. Oh yes.

Well. Good to have something that detracts from the Planet-related Bad Connotations connected with trees. 

After a couple of moments, Kolya slips out of bed and into the bathroom. And it's not until mid-way through showering that he remembers one key point - if this day is **the** day, then that means...

Oh. Wonderful.

Shortly afterwards, he wanders grudgingly out of the bathroom again, in search of his dress uniform.

_Wonderful_.

People who regularly stay up all night and don't sleep more than once in a forty-eight hour cycle are usually not prone to enjoying the time after waking, especially if the time after waking is close to the time they stopped being awake in the first place.

Rodney registers Kolya moving and is too sleep-lazy to do anything other than make a thick noise of protest and then roll over again. Working in the place you live, whilst sometimes leading to stir-craziness, has the benefit of more time in bed and less time travelling. And more time in bed. Especially when you aren't working to a contract and are only working to keep yourself from crawling the walls in boredom.

"...'l Jrrn be up later," he slurs and rolls over, dragging the covers over his head. Jerran won't miss him if he takes a few more hours to regain humanity.

It's only after Kolya manages to locate his rarely-needed dress uniform, and is midway through grudgingly putting it on - without thinking about the last two times he needed it - that he realises it might be a good idea to wake Rodney up.

There are several ways he could do this. Several ways he has, in the past, _done_ this. A number of them require rather less clothing and, alas, would be unwise right now. Then there's the slightly more entertaining choice of yelling "Fire!" loudly, something he has only ever done once and, yes, perhaps he'd better not think about **that** , either, because Rodney McKay was most certainly not the recipient of said action.

Or, of course, there's option number three. Tugging on his jacket, he sits on the edge of the bed, hand out to lightly shake the doctor's shoulder. "Rodney. Much as you like horizontality, you might want to think about getting up before both of us misses the historic peace deal."

"Mmf. 'mnot signing it," Rodney mumbles, snuggling down further under the covers. "Might diplomatic incident if 'm tired."

Kolya rolls his eyes, even if he knows Rodney can't see. "There _will_ be a diplomatic incident if you don't hurry up," he says.

"Can't someone give a speech about... joining hands and the importance of holding asses or something?" Rodney whines, peeking over the top of the covers and pouting in the most affecting way he can.

"No doubt there will be a great many speeches, which you and I will be arriving after, and therefore which neither of us needs to dwell on." And having said this, Kolya now gives Rodney a hurry-up look - one that is unlikely to last long before he chooses to take more decisive action.

"Good. I hate speeches." Rodney still isn't moving. It's entirely possible it's purposeful.

Instead of replying to this, Kolya smiles a little, expression taking on that movement-in-potentia look that usually means... well, movement of an imminent nature, obviously.

He pauses, for ever-so-slightly longer than one might expect, and then briskly yanks the covers off Rodney, leaning in to stare him right in the eyes. "The alternative involves calling off the deal and keeping you here forever," he states, though there's a light edge to his tone. Well. More or less.

"Do you have coffee, Battlestar Galactica, lesbian porn and cats? And Ancient technology?" Rodney asks, lowering his lashes in an attempt to look sultry which is partially ruined by the fact he's still talking in morning-voice, his hair is all mussed and he has a pillow print on the side of his face. But he doesn't know this, so it doesn't affect him. He sits up and tries to steal the covers back, keeping his face near Kolya's. "And chocolate. And Minesweeper. And my orthopaedic mattress..."

Although Kolya shouldn't say things like that to someone who wants to go back to sleep. Tiredom is a wonderful demotivator.

Kolya keeps a firm hold on the covers, making it extremely difficult for Rodney to grab them back, and at the same time, he answers the good doctor's question in a perfect deadpan. "I believe there are a few cats on the surface. As for everything else... no. We do not. You are well aware of this. We do, however, have a number of rather large nuclear reactors, which you will be seeing _a lot more of_ if you do not _hurry up_."

Rodney yanks harder. He is a stubborn man. Giving in over something like this... is against lots of principles and things. "You could have waited to shower with me," he says, sulkily. And, for a minute, maybe he does look hurt. But then he lets go of the covers all of a sudden and grumbles into the shower.

"I could," Kolya concedes. "Although judging by how late we finally went to bed, I thought you would appreciate the extra sleep."

Which is true. What he is, of course, completely neglecting to mention is the fact that this is about to be one of the hardest days of his life - and, as such, few of his thought processes have gone far beyond trying to ensure that nothing can go wrong.

Rodney is not known for his good grace, so he makes a point of being loud in the shower. Loud putting down of things. Loud steps. Loud... loud. It's the only way to deal with his frustration without punching a wall - which is worrying, that he's suddenly so physically wound.

He dries himself off and deliberately walks out of the bathroom without a towel to drag on the smart clothes he's been provided, still looking like a sore bear.

Whilst Rodney is showering, Kolya... well. He doesn't pace. Part of him wants to, but he's got enough self control to resist it. Instead, he stands completely still, almost awkward in the conscious decision to do so, staying deep in thought.

This is not easy, and the loud, disgruntled noises coming from the direction of his bathroom only serve to emphasise that. The day is going to be phenomenally difficult for far too many reasons, several of them much more complex than seemed obvious at first.

Furthermore? Dress uniform really makes him edgy. It looks much like his regular uniform, except that instead of being khaki and brown, it's black and silver, with an overly-ceremonial feel to it, and thereby an air of purposelessness.

After a while, he walks - not paces - over to his desk, settling at it and idly flipping through a couple of dossiers in an attempt to stay occupied. And he continues to do this until Rodney comes walking out of the bathroom looking... somewhat unhappy.

It's amazing how critical you can be when putting on clothing, without even saying a word. There's a certain quality to the pause and tension when tugging on zips. The indignant little way you can pull down your shirt. The way you stomp your feet down when your boots are on.

And then Rodney is looking malevolently at Kolya. There's no doubt he's really, really not enjoying today.

"And how long do we have to wait until the fat lady sings?" he asks.

"Unless your people have a tradition I'm unfamiliar with, there will be no singing involved," Kolya states, levelly. "The final events of the treaty negotiations are taking place now, and Cowan will be sending someone to alert us when it's time to leave. The planet we're going to, Mirrel, has been hosting the talks in the nearest settlement to their Stargate, and there will be people waiting to bring us to the meeting place."

He explains this as concisely as possible, knowing that it won't make much of a difference, but needing to make sure the plan is clear - to himself, as much as Rodney.

"Well. That's what I meant, anyway." Rodney looks around the room. He hasn't even got much of anything to take back, although he feels he should have more. It's weird to suddenly realise he's been without all the little things he was so sure he needed on Atlantis, and will probably still feel he needs when he goes back there. Back... home.

Right. That was an uncomfortable thought. So uncomfortable it makes even Rodney pace.

Oh, now that’s not a promising sign. It's probably a good thing that Kolya is still sitting down, because it makes his own pacing urge easier to resist - though he's got that look in his eyes again; the need-to-go-kill-something look. In all honesty, however, it would not be wise to let him near any kind of duelling arena unless you _wanted_ his opponents particularly well-broken.

And now Kolya isn't sure what to say - because Rodney still does not look happy, and he'd really rather avoid anything that might make the situation worse. Besides, he knows that - all being well - Cowan's messenger will be here soon, and then... they can go.

"My trousers are all going to be too big now," Rodney says a little mournfully, as he tugs his belt in recognition. "I'm going to look like... well." That thought stops. Eventually, Rodney contemplates leaning against the wall, realises he doesn't have the cool for it, and drops back onto the bed instead, eyeing the door.

Kolya wonders how best to reply to this, but is saved from doing so by a sudden knock at the door.

Oh.

_Oh_.

It must be time. And despite all the anticipation, this suddenly feels like an event that was always supposed to be in the future - something _going_ to happen, but never actually doing so. But now it _is_ about to happen, and that feels odd in a way even Kolya didn't expect.

He gets up, walks to the door, and opens it - and, sure enough, there's a youngish soldier standing in the corridor beyond. "Commander. They are almost ready for you on Mirrel, so Chief Cowan wants you and Doctor McKay to depart at once."

Kolya nods. "Understood."

The soldier salutes and hurries off, whilst Kolya turns back to Rodney, finally about to speak the words that have been on the horizon for so long.

"It's time."

Whatever Rodney is thinking or feeling right now, it's far, far from evident on his face. In a way he feels distant. Detached. As though he was just watching.

He stands up of a sudden, hands clapping too-loudly together in front of him. "Right. We should... go then. No sense in being late to our own party."

Kolya nods once. "Indeed." And he gestures in the direction of the still-open door, despite being really quite reluctant to walk through it.

A complicated wave of things over his face again, and then Rodney is following the soldier, head back, shoulders back, pace firm. Only his hands speak to his agitation.

It's... strange being led to the Stargate. Apart from last night... last night... he's been mostly confined to the bunker and environs. So seeing the large ring again... when the last time he can remember one was on **that** planet... it causes all sorts of weird sensations.

He's trying ever so hard not to speak.

They walk in silence, neither saying anything; the lack of words shockingly unnatural even for them. Though Kolya has to admit that the thinking-time is helpful, because he needs to get his thoughts and reactions carefully arranged.

A lot is about to happen. The Genii are about to formally enter a peace deal with the Atlanteans. Rodney McKay is leaving, and it might be some time before they can meet again. And furthermore, Kolya is about to be in a room with John Sheppard.

It would really help if that factor wasn't in the mix. But it is. Acutely so. And staring into his eyes, with the memory of _last_ time so very close to mind... oh, now that is going to be one of the hardest moments of Kolya's life.

Eventually, there they are, staring at the Stargate, bathed in morning sunlight. Kolya is fairly sure he hasn't seen actual sunlight since... the Planet? Has it really been that long?

There are more guards here; obviously waiting for them, and after a nod from Kolya, one of them steps up to the dialling device, beginning to push a specific sequence of buttons.

_CHING... CHING... CHING..._ and the chevrons begin to glow, one after the other, symbols illuminating until there's that spectacular burst of white light, melting back into a serene, blue puddle.

Kolya takes a deep breath, glancing sideways at Rodney. "Ready?"

Rodney doesn't look at first, but then he does. And he nods. "Yeah. I'm... ready."

Not ready. Not ready. No clue what to say to anyone. No way able to not burst out into nervous laughter. No way capable of behaving and making sure this all goes through well. In no way able to walk away...

He turns his attention forwards again, pauses briefly, then walks. And holds his breath.

For a second, Kolya lays his hand on Rodney's shoulder - and of all the times he's done that, there is none that has been for a clearer reason than this, the gesture now saying only one thing: _I'm still here_.

Then they're walking, side-by-side, approaching the Gate, until there's that momentary shudder in reality, an instant of coolness... and they stand on the other side.

Mirrel is a rather unremarkable world - one that, like so many, has known the deadly touch of the Wraith. But it also happens to be located in a particularly remote and sparsely-populated part of the Pegasus Galaxy, and as such is not preyed upon with the kind of frightening regularity known to other worlds.

They step out of the Gate, and are immediately faced with a small but rather impressive-looking city, hued mostly in grey, the buildings fairly blocky and low. One of the closest - and largest - is currently surrounded by guards; and this, clearly, is the place where the negotiations have been taking place.

"Always with the walking," Rodney says ruefully. "No one ever thinks to make places convenient."

If he makes any kind of deeper comment, or even acknowledges... them... this... it would make the moment impossible. So he buries it all down so much he almost chokes. "So. We should move."

"I know," Kolya agrees, speaking only to fill the void. And then, resigned to this, he leads the way along the path, which itself leads up to the Building In Question.

Uh-oh. The capital letters are back. This is never a good sign.

As they walk, Kolya says nothing else. He's nigh-on certain that Rodney is barely managing to hold himself together - a state of affairs that is more mutual than the good commander would like to admit. He believes, somehow, that he shouldn't be feeling like this, that he should be glad the alliance is finally about to be formed, that in it both sides can find greater hope of defeating the Wraith and forging a better existence for themselves and the galaxy as a whole. That Idos' death, and the deaths of all those others, will finally find some semblance of purpose.

But what he does feel is an almost crushing sense of finality - as if this is, somehow, an irreversible concession, and the unwelcome end of a series of events that, whether he'll admit it or not, really have changed him in more ways than one.

When everyone else sees Rodney, they won't fail to notice his body language is not quite what it is. So when he walks in, slightly dejected, slightly resigned, smiling only light and wan...

It's entirely possible that on the threshold is not a good place to stop, grab your partner's face, tilt it roughly and kiss them hard, on the lips. An impulse. One building since he woke this morning, and one he had to give in to eventually. At least he's outside, though, and unless anyone opens a door... they will just think he's a little late.

He hopes.

Kolya, as he so often likes to point out to people, is very much a man of instinct, taking things step by step and reacting to events as they progress. As such, when faced with a very unexpected kiss from Rodney, his initial reaction takes place before his mind gets as far as needing to process exactly what's going on.

It's one of the reasons he fights so well - because he can react without having to think through every step. It is also the reason why, when Rodney grabs him and kisses him, all he does is stop right where he is and kiss the man back. And considering how unhappy both of them are about their now-imminent parting - not to mention everything _else_ \- it really is quite an intense kiss.

Mid-way through it, naturally, someone has the audacity to open the door. Past experience has shown, with alarming realism, what can happen if you open a door on Kolya when he most certainly does not want it opened, and for a split-second, it would be quite reasonable to assume that he might actually be about to pull his gun from its holster and shoot whoever is on the other side.

For irony's sake - and perhaps with more than a little foresight, too - he does not do this. In fact, Kolya's reaction is incredibly cool and level; save, of course, for that little flicker in his eyes that might mean later retribution if given the chance.

In the few seconds it takes to open the door, there's one terrible instant where it almost seems as though the room beyond is the main meeting chamber, and they're about to be in full-view of everyone. Thankfully, this is not the case.

This also helps with the not-shooting thing. Calm, Kolya takes his time with the kiss, letting Rodney drag it out for as long as he wants, breaking apart when they're finally ready and turning his best I-am-so-above-your-opinions expression on the rather shocked and worried-looking guard standing just inside the building.

The guard - clearly a Mirrelian - tries to pull himself together. Whilst he does, Kolya takes a moment to unnerve him by speaking. "I am Commander Acastus Kolya, of the Genii, and this is Doctor Rodney McKay. I believe Chief Cowan is expecting us?"

Those two sentences really shouldn't be scary, but the guard looks more alarmed on hearing them. "Ah, yes, right," he says, obviously deciding that a reply is the best way to get this moving again. "I believe he said something about calling you into the main meeting hall when he was ready."

"Very well," Kolya answers, and both men follow the Mirrelian inside.

Being walked in upon when kissing is rarely a fun experience. It should be, according to some of the more... unconventional fantasies Rodney occasionally indulges in, but in practice it leaves him red-faced and feeling slightly guilty. Not that he has any feeling guilty for. Neither of them are cheating on a partner, neither of them are breaking any vows of chastity (which is fortunate) and Rodney has every right to kiss Kolya if he wants to.

...he just isn't sure he wants to in front of all of his friends on his first outing since his exaggerated death. 

The room they now enter, an antechamber to the main hall, is decorated with what is most likely local art - a pair of statues carved from grey stone, and several abstract paintings hued in orange and red. Several more guards - also Mirrelians - are here too, all of them managing the so-not-staring expression with long-practiced precision.

In front of them... is another door. A big, impressive, ominous double door. And only one thing could be on the other side... the meeting. The treaty. Former enemies, new allies.

The first guard now slips through this door and into the room beyond. As he does, he leaves the door ever-so-slightly ajar; just enough for Kolya and Rodney, standing outside, to hear what is going on within.

"...well. I do believe that's everything," comes a voice unmistakeable as Chief Cowan, quite possibly in response to some sign from the guard who just entered.

"I have to agree," replies a level, female voice obviously belonging to Elizabeth Weir. "All this treaty needs is two signatures, and our sides will at last be formally allied."

"A truly momentous day." A third voice - male, and although clipped, at least partly bearing a genuine edge.

Him. **Him**. Colonel John Sheppard. For a second, every part of Kolya's being screams out the same mental sentence: _over sixty men!_ He wants revenge. Justice. Closure.

...But things are different now. And though that's still hard to accept, he has to remember: all of this was his idea - one he has to keep believing in... for all the reasons he has held on to.

And for Rodney.

In the room beyond, there is a lot of excited chatter now, and the occasional scrape of chairs on what sounds like a wooden floor. After a moment, Cowan speaks again, his words instantly evident as the sort to be remembered for years to come.

"And so it is... that as of this moment, the Genii Empire and the people of Atlantis have entered into a formal alliance. The hostilities between us are over, and together, we will strive to form a better future for both our sides."

There's a brief pause, during which various people cheer and call out in that almost nervous way which seems inevitable when making peace with a former enemy. And then... then Cowan speaks once more.

Even before he does, Kolya knows: this is it.

"Now that this treaty has been signed, the Genii would like to offer the people of Atlantis a token of our good faith..."

One last pause. One last breath. One last look.

Then the great double doors are opened, and, side-by-side, Kolya and Rodney step into the room to sudden, utter silence. The entire Atlantis contingent bears exactly the same look, down to the last person, as they stare and stare in complete and total shock at a man long believed to be dead.

And it falls to Weir to be the only one able to speak through the surprise.

"...Rodney?!"

Rodney was planning on saying something before they went in, but the addition of other people makes it somewhat harder, and he contends with just reaching a hand out so his fingers touch the back of Kolya's hand, before he squeezes Kolya's fingers just a little. For... reassurance. He really is going to have to work on whatever it is he wants to say. It's just that it never comes out right around Kolya, and the whole gung-ho grab-kiss-explain-later mindset is ever so slightly... contagious.

And then, before the universe gives him the decency of letting him scoot fingers through hair and grow less red in the face, the door is open. And all those people he hasn't seen in a long time, though he thought of them almost every day - they are all here.

"Hi," he says with a little patrician-esque wave. "Miss me?"

Aware that this might take a while, Kolya merely stands and watches the surprise unfold into what must surely be a very odd moment indeed. Besides, he can see John Sheppard standing close by, giving him an obvious Look - and deep down, all Kolya wants is to walk over, stare the man in the eyes, and say, calmly, "Now we're even."

But he doesn't. Not yet, anyway.

Weir, meanwhile, is apparently still trying to process this unexpected appearance. "Miss you?" she repeats. "We thought... after Raikora... Rodney, we thought you were dead!"

"So did I, actually. And I nearly was, repeatedly. But I managed to blow the door and then we broke into a Wraith dart and _then_ I had to beam us onto the Planet of the Dinosaurs and _then_ they all tried to eat me. After that, apart from some minor radiation exposure, things have been fine."

He smiles. Nervously. "Hey," he says to John, when he's got his eye. "I would have contacted you, but Cowan didn't want to in case the negotiations went south."

And then he pauses, biting his lip. And then he turns, looks at Kolya, and gives him one of those 'come over here now before I have to look ridiculous and call you to heel' looks.

"I just... I thought I should tell you. Although we weren't very happy about the situation to begin with... well. Kolya saved my life more than a few times on the ship and on the planet. And... well." Again with the well. So eloquent. "It's because of him we had any negotiations at all. And I know... things haven't really gone well in the past, for obvious reasons too long to go into... but I thought I should tell you so you have an idea what's been going on. And no, Colonel, they have not been feeding me special pills, because... I wasn't even on their planet at the start. Wait. What is the Genii homeworld called anyway? I don't think I've ever heard."

Funny how there are some things you just never get around to mentioning.

"Geneva," Kolya replies.

Rodney stares at him. "You **are** joking, right?"

Kolya blinks back, not knowing why Rodney would be remotely surprised. "No," he replies. "Our homeworld is named Geneva."

"...so, we just signed the Geneva Convention, then?" Sheppard asks, a very odd smile crossing his face.

"We did," Kolya agrees, whilst Elizabeth looks ready for a head-desk interface, albeit in a polite and diplomatic way.

And Kolya, of course, is still unaware of exactly why this name is so very noteworthy.

...Ironic, really!


	3. Die Hard Atlantis (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodney and Acastus finally reunite on a special trip to Atlantis. When they get back to the city, however, there's more than meets the eye.

It is odd, in many ways, how the aftermath of a major event can seem so distressingly normal. It doesn’t help, of course, that Kolya spends every one of those aftermath days missing Rodney more intensely than even he expected. There is still a lot to sort out, though, because – as predicted – Chief Cowan quickly announces his plan to make Commander Kolya the official Genii Liaison to the people of Atlantis.

This means rather more meetings with his esteemed leader than Kolya wants, although he does take plenty of opportunities to be quietly smug about the fact that this was all his idea, and that it did work out. Just like he said.

People really should learn to trust him more. Although given his reputation, it’s understandable why they don’t.

When not involved in these meetings, Kolya’s life is much like it had always been before. He spends a lot of time training - mostly because it’s one of the very few ways to stay distracted – but also because it makes him feel better. And he’s all right during the day. At night... he works late.

And eventually, he gets the news he’s been waiting for, the news he’s anticipated more eagerly than seems natural for a man of his personality-set: the first official consultation between the two members of the Geneva Convention (just why did they find that name so wryly entertaining?) is to take place in a day.

The waiting seems even harder now the end result is so close - and Kolya might be more than a little tense. This serves to explain why, at the end of the day’s training session, Rokal is back in the infirmary. Again.

Well. In all fairness, he should learn to block better.

The appointed morning dawns, and after a final meeting with Cowan, Kolya sets out to walk to the Stargate. By the time he arrives, it is already active, shimmering in the morning sunlight.

“Everything is prepared, Commander,” a guard reports. “They’re awaiting your arrival on Atlantis.”

Oh. Now. This is going to be interesting. He’s overthought every second of what this will be like, naturally, but not even that can prepare Kolya for the moment he walks up to the ‘Gate, pauses... steps forward...

...and then, he’s emerging, into a wide and familiar room, lit by a golden glow from the strange windows.

Atlantis. Again. And so, it begins...

The Gateroom of Atlantis looks informal and relaxed in the way only a truly self-conscious desire to look informal and relaxed ever can be. Most of the people in Atlantis know something of the... incident during the storm, but fortunately, very few people have actually met any of the Genii at all, and many of the people working here now came over on the _Daedalus_. It is mostly these people who populate the room, pressing buttons and drinking coffee. At the bottom of the stairs, in loose formation, stand Doctor Weir, Colonel Sheppard, Teyla Emmagen, Ronon Dex, Major Lorne and - of course - Rodney McKay.

Of the group, only Rodney shows any sign of agitation. Teyla and Ronon look implacably calm: Teyla with that wonderful grounded air, Ronon looking mostly indifferent. Major Lorne looks politely attentive. Colonel Sheppard looks notably emotionless. Doctor Weir stands with her hands clasped lightly in front of her, and she nods politely as Kolya steps though the event horizon.

“Commander Kolya,” she says, with a light, deferential nod. “We are glad you have come.”

Rodney looks as though he wants to say something. Well, knowing Rodney, he wants to say a lot of things. But the presence of other people stops him, so he merely smiles nervously and does all he can to stop from jumping from leg to leg.

“Before we begin,” Weir says, “I would like to have a brief talk with you in my office. And then I think Colonel Sheppard would like to say a few things from a military perspective. Then Doctor McKay has offered to show you the city and help you to settle. I know this first consultation will seem a little... unusual, as we have little to discuss until we have both familiarised ourselves with our different cultures.”

Sheppard is smiling a dangerous smile. Rodney is looking... wound up. Were the occasion not a formal one, there is little doubt that people would soon be cleaning the walls of one of them before long.

“I was thinking... get something to eat, then look around,” Rodney jumps in, needing to say something. “But if you aren’t hungry we can change plans.”

Though Kolya is not, of course, a diplomat of any kind, he is better at being diplomatic than most people realise - chiefly because situations requiring such diplomacy generally work out better if he just shoots anyone who disagrees, and he rarely gives himself a chance to prove that he can actually resolve matters without violence.

No. Really.

Right now, he’s managing a very impressive, very impassive, very restrained look. It doesn’t help that what he really wants to do is punch Sheppard in the head, then drag Rodney into the nearest convenient room and stay there for as long as possible.

He can do diplomacy. He can. Watching him at it is rather more scary than watching him wave a knife in your face, but still. Calmly, the commander returns Doctor Weir’s nod. “I am glad to be here,” he says. And anyone trying to tag an ‘again’ to the end of that sentence, apt or not, ought to re-think their decision.

The unspoken ‘again’ hangs in mid-air, nonetheless.

“I will speak with both of you now, one after the other,” Kolya agrees. And then, he turns calmly to Rodney, his tone of voice shifting in such a way that no one could fail to notice it.

Which is deliberate, of course. “Whatever you like,” he says. “I am looking forward to seeing the city.”

Oh. There’s that unspoken ‘again...’ again.

An attentive person watching Rodney at this point might notice the way he almost-jumps, then looks guiltily about to see if anyone’s realised how stupidly... affected something like that can make him feel. He nods, dumb for once.

Fortunately, no one has the indecency - or perhaps, nerve - to look in Rodney’s direction. All eyes are on Kolya.

“Good. That will be... good,” Rodney says, intelligently.

“Would you care to join me in my office?” Elizabeth asks, with a small wave to the room Kolya already knows much too well for her liking.

Although Kolya says nothing more to Rodney for now, he gives him a look that someone with enough skill in the Art of Reading Kolya might be able to understand - a look behind which many more words are hidden, and one which it is likely no one but Rodney will stand any chance of comprehending.

Then he turns, attention back on Elizabeth. “Of course.”

Her office... oh yes. _That_ one.

It is easy enough to get there, easy enough for Elizabeth to sit behind her desk and wave Kolya to sit on the other side. And yet, it seems only a few weeks ago, the position was reversed...

“First, Rodney assures me that we have you to thank for saving his life, and arranging the talks between our people.” She pauses. Perhaps for effect.

“Secondly: I’m sure you are well aware that this situation is a... delicate one. And so I feel I must inform you that you may be accompanied by members of Colonel Sheppard’s staff from time to time. It is a simple safety precaution. Very few people here ever work alone, because there is a risk we will be infiltrated - even by people supposed to be in alliance with us, or from our own planet. Rodney will tell you where you should not go unattended.” Again, a pause. It is clear why she is one of Earth’s spokesmen.

“We aim to keep to the agreement we signed with your people to the word. If there are any problems, I want you to tell me, Doctor McKay, or Colonel Sheppard.”

The officialese over, she lets space trail between them, just briefly. “I realise the situation will be hard for both of us. I think it would be wisest if neither of us thought of the past and focused on the future. Do you have any questions?”

Somewhat predictably, Kolya does not sit down; choosing instead to adopt the careful, at-ease pose he generally uses around Cowan. At Weir’s mention of his role in both saving Rodney’s life, and of being the driving force behind the talks, he merely nods - mostly because he isn’t certain of how much Rodney will have told his people about what happened, but also because he’s saving up any smug replies to use on Sheppard.

Weir’s second point, however, warrants an answer. “I understand your need to be cautious, Doctor Weir. I would, of course, do the same thing in your place. And I can assure you that if any problems arise, you will hear about it.”

And then there’s **that** remark. It had to be coming, naturally, but even so... it makes matters more difficult. You could bet anything you like that he’s running through katas in his mind again.

“I am more than willing to avoid dwelling on the past,” Kolya states. “Otherwise, I would not be here.”

Furthermore? People really should not ask Kolya if he has questions. He’s **always** got questions, but there’s a distinct difference between having questions and choosing to voice them.

He shakes his head. “No. None.”

“All right,” she nods. “I think the aim of your visit has already been made clear enough, and I know Colonel Sheppard has some things to say to you as well, so I won’t keep you long.”

Elizabeth looks down at her desk, fighting the memories. They aren’t pleasant memories, and they are ones this would be easier without.

“I would like to see you again tomorrow evening, to ensure everything is working well. Other than that, you are under Doctor McKay and Colonel Sheppard’s guidance.”

Military. Scientific. It’s a deliberate balance.

“If you have nothing to ask, then I see no reason to prolong this with more formalities.” She would have added something to the point of keeping an eye on Rodney - whose dedication to his work usually left him working throughout the night non-stop – but fortunately she stops herself before she does. And nods, instead. Dismissal.

Kolya nods one last time. “Understood. I will... speak with him at once.”

Oh. Now this is going to be fun, but only if one equates ‘fun’ with ‘exceptionally unpleasant.’ He refrains from asking where Sheppard is - mostly because it’s a question that is somewhat hard to voice without a shocking reminiscence to the storm.

It’s unlikely to matter, though, as no doubt Sheppard will be lurking around nearby anyway. So he turns, leaving the room - and naturally finds himself face-to-face with the man only seconds later. “Colonel,” Kolya says, voice completely level. “Doctor Weir mentioned that you wished to speak with me?”

“That I do,” the Colonel drawls, voice unnaturally easy. The easy that is pure calculation.

“I don’t have much to say,” he admits, leaning deliberately against the banister. “My team will be watching you, as I’m sure you’re aware. We’ll be sharing some military and technical information, but the majority of that will come later.”

Pause. “If you play right by us, we’ll play right by you. But if you so much as try to take a nine-mil home without permission... I’ll know about it, and I’ll act upon it. And if I **ever** learn you did a single **thing** to hurt Rodney, so help me god, I will hurt you worse.” After which, he smiles. “That okay with you?”

Shockingly calm, Kolya merely stares back at Sheppard. “Colonel,” he says, in a detached, knowing tone born from years of practice, “I saved the good doctor’s life, remember? I will not do anything to hurt him.”

He means it, of course, but the statement is delivered in such a tone as to be very, very smug; without actually **being** very, very smug, of course.

“I know. He told me.” There’s a very deliberate silence, then, one that makes itself known. “I don’t mean just that.”

Oh. Silence. Kolya is good at silence. “Then what **do** you mean?” he asks - knowing full-well what the answer is, and wondering whether he can get Sheppard to voice it.

Hmmm. Maybe diplomacy is more interesting than he first thought.

“I mean, Kolya, that if you do **anything** to upset the man - trying as he is - I will hurt you. Rodney has friends here. Good friends. And none of them will be very happy if you make him unhappy.”

A longer pause. A thought. “Do not take advantage of him.”

Kolya smiles. It’s the kind of expression one should be very wary of - whilst, at the same time, one which is hard to classify. “I believe you should cease these insinuations, Colonel,” he replies, tone very much like his expression. “I have already assured you of my intentions, and whilst I understand your inclination not to trust me, I would have hoped that my being responsible for both the doctor’s continued survival, and his eventual return to Atlantis, would stand as proof of my word.”

“Your word,” Sheppard replies, tone now openly hostile, it not excessively so, “wasn’t much good last time I checked.” He lets that sink in. Stares. Doesn’t blink.

He folds his arms across his chest, deliberately. “So. If I don’t have any faith in you, you’ll have to forgive me.”

And then... he smiles. Falsely.

“I can forgive you, Colonel. The question, I think, is whether you are capable of the same.”

And oh, that hurt - but it doesn’t show in Kolya’s eyes. Not at all. The statement was simply too good to be held back by something as simple as personal feelings.

Sheppard tilts his head in a way oddly reminiscent of Rodney. One might have got it from the other, or someone else, or... it’s impossible to tell. But it’s probably an entirely subconscious gesture on Sheppard’s part.

“If you keep your nose clean, and your side of the bargain, and I don’t ever have a reason to regret supporting Doctor Weir signing the treaty... We’ll be even.” He doesn’t say: I will do the same. Because, of course, deep down, he’s sure they will respect the treaty on the Atlantean end. Sometimes he’s prone to optimism. Sometimes it’s even understandable.

“We _are_ even,” Kolya states, still managing to keep his voice almost annoyingly level. He doesn’t believe it, of course - far from it; he actually considers himself to be well ahead of Sheppard, due to the killing-most-of-his-squad incident. But that is something which does not yet need to be said.

“Now. I believe the good doctor is intent on showing me this fascinating city of yours?”

“What you haven’t already **seen** ,” the colonel replies. It’s possible he’s taking this a little too far. That he’s a little more annoyed than maybe even he has right to.

“Go on,” he says. “And I’ll see you again. Later.”

“Indeed you will,” Kolya says, still managing to be calmer than even he expected. Possibly the unceasing mental katas help more than he realises. Or possibly it’s more a case of refusing to show any sign of annoyance. Anger. Resentment. All those things.

And then he turns, now knowing that nothing stands between him and getting to see Rodney again. He spots the doctor in seconds and walks over at once - resisting the urge to grab and kiss him here and now, simply because he knows Sheppard is still watching.

Vindictiveness is such a wonderful thing. But sometimes, disaffected superiority can be doubly so.

As soon as Kolya is close enough, Rodney automatically lifts his hand to touch him lightly on the arm. It’s unintentional. Necessary. His expression is one of conflict: the need to greet modulated by the awareness of those around them. The strange feeling being around Kolya - even from such a distance, so far - has upon him.

“Hi. I. Uh. The transporter is this way. I thought we could do a quick tour. Then I...” headtilt, first one way, then the other. “I tried to sort out a surprise for you, which may or may not work, but I thought you’d approve.”

And then he realises how rude he’s being. “I take it your... thing. Living. On Geneva. Everything been fine?”

Kolya can see the look in Rodney’s eyes and he wants to respond to it. He doesn’t, however - not yet – for he too is acutely aware of not being alone. This is a state of affairs that really, really needs to end soon.

 _Very_ soon.

“Lead on,” he says, simply.

As they begin to walk, he turns his attention to the doctor’s question - which, outwardly, seems merely conversational, but which is also surely connected in some way to a need for reassurance. “Everything has been fine,” Kolya confirms. “It has been... quiet. Little has happened in the wake of the peace deal, aside of course from a lot of technical arrangements.”

Walking only slightly in front so he can guide better, Rodney listens. Asking and waiting for a response of any kind without rambling... is very, very telling.

“It’s been more or less the same here. I had to go through rounds of tests to make sure I wasn’t a clone or a Trojan or anything, but then there’ve been a few near-death experiences since then and having to save everyone all over again so that kind of got forgotten. Which is really, really good because it was beginning to get annoying.”

I missed you. “This is the transporter. I don’t know if you saw them last time because it took us a while to figure them out when we first arrived. You press the screen and anywhere in the city there’s another one of these, you appear there almost instantaneously.” 

The door opens, and Rodney steps in. They also have the other ability to close behind people, and act rather like the closets the team first took them to be. Which is another reason - along with the desire to impress - that Rodney’s led them there.

The transporters are not something Kolya is familiar with, given that the Genii did not work out what the devices were in the short time they were here. In addition, the mere concept of something like this is understandably alien to him - after all, the only point of comparison is the technology used by the Wraith to capture targets, and that is something Kolya has only ever seen twice.

But the idea of something like this is indeed intriguing. He follows Rodney into the small, strange room, at which point the door closes behind them.

And they’re alone. It really is about time.

Before Rodney has a chance to select a destination from the city map - if, of course, doing so straight away was ever his intention - Kolya pushes the doctor against the side wall and kisses him at once, utterly desperate for the contact, the connection... for him. He needs this, needs it with an intensity he’s been acutely aware of for every second they’ve been apart. And in truth, that is somewhat frightening, in a way; the realisation of that raw _craving_.

To be honest, Rodney has been thinking about how their reunion would go for some time now. Nothing in public, of course, even if the idea does have a kind of pull to it... but it would not be wise.

It may be that he realised that this would be the quickest way for them to be alone together. Possibly. A little.

Rodney doesn’t resist at all, goes willingly into the wall and has his hands up and tangled in Kolya’s clothes as soon as he can make his hands move. God. He’s only just seen him again and within a few minutes they’re kissing and Rodney’s aroused as all hell.

He kisses back. In fact, he does more than that, he gets as good as he gives. Tongue against tongue, fingers on shoulders and faces, compressing weeks and weeks of need into one, super-dense phase. 

And then he pulls back - just a little - hands on Kolya’s face keeping him just close enough so he can still talk. “Here,” Rodney says, “or my room. Or my surprise.” A question, though not an obvious one. He coils Kolya’s hair around a finger, before caving and rubbing his face against the commander’s. “Oh god I’ve missed you. And I’m not just saying it, either.”

Kolya has overthought every second of how this might go. Every second, filled with as many possibilities as he’s dared allow his mind to bring up - which, considering that he is not easily worried, is quite a lot.

This is better. Far, far better. This is... beyond explanation in words.

And he doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want to break the contact for the barest second; as if, having done so once before, he knows better now. Hands grip at Rodney’s upper arms, then wrap around the back of his head, dragging him in closer.

When Rodney finally pulls back to speak, Kolya keeps the distance between them as small as possible, safe in the knowledge that he can close it again any instant he chooses. Any instant either of them chooses.

“Wherever you want,” he breathes - and though in truth he might actually choose to draw the line at, say, in the middle of the Gateroom, he’d probably need a moment to remind himself why first. It’s entirely possible not all his thought is coming from the head area right now.

Then they’re resting cheek-to-cheek, and he can feel warm breath against his ear, the contours of Rodney’s face beside his own. “I’ve missed you as well,” he whispers. “Very, very much so.”

Rodney looks torn. He looks torn very often, to such an extent that he has different faces for different kinds of ambivalence. Breath still rough and uneven, face still close to Kolya’s, there’s a moment or two before he drags out a reply.

“My room,” Rodney says, eventually, “isn’t too far from a transporter. But we’d still have to walk there. My surprise... I need to be lucid and capable of rational thought for.” His hands are restless, trying to hold and tug everything at once. To keep him from stepping back, one inch.

But here. Here anyone could find them. Open the door. They aren’t that far from the Gateroom. And then they have to get from here to his room without being seen to be... well. Thoroughly debauched.

He pauses, urges Kolya to step back and to the side a little, then yanks a panel off the wall, moves and prods crystals around without any kind of explanation, then jams the section back into the wall.

And then jams Kolya back into the wall, right in his face. “No one can get in,” he explains. “I locked it. Of course, someone might... try to unjam it, or realise we’re here but...” all the while, his face pressed against Kolya’s... hands struggling with belts. “Quick,” he hisses, urgently.

And no. He can’t entirely believe he’s doing this, either. Elizabeth will kill him if she ever finds out.

Well. This is certainly a pleasingly dynamic turn of events. And, though they’re technically locked in, the element of danger adds a certain... something to the whole situation.

It’s entirely possible that serious diplomatic and cultural exchanges are not supposed to work like this. It’s also entirely possible that Kolya does not have much time for ‘serious diplomatic and cultural exchanges.’

On the other hand, hasty reunion sex in a special Atlantean closet? That’s a different matter altogether. And did he really just think that?

Emphasis on the ‘hasty’ part, though. Which would be why he’s simultaneously sticking his tongue down the doctor’s throat and his hand down the front of the doctor’s trousers, more than aware that they need to be quiet as well as quick.

This is possibly the single most brainless thing Rodney McKay has ever done in his life. The things he did in college... were in college. And pretty much accepted as part of a riotous youth. But here, where everybody - **everybody** \- knows him, where he’s going to live and work until death does him depart, or other horrendous act of violence...

Which is why, instead of stepping back and calming down, he’s grabbing Kolya’s shoulder hard enough to be very, very uncomfortable. And why he’s trying to work out how to breathe around a Genii commander. And how to avoid nasty things like metal zippers when fumbling in Kolya’s trousers in a desperate attempt to make up for lost time.

Really. Really sensible.

Rodney arches up onto the balls of his feet, toes scrunching down hard to stifle the yell at the back of his throat. The danger, the long separation, the... proof positive of how much Kolya wants **him** are all fortunately too much, and he’s coming messily in Kolya’s hand almost before they’ve started; a muffled, choked noise as the hand on Kolya’s shoulder - his left - slides down and down to Kolya’s wrist, until he’s holding it knuckles back against the wall, finally falling back onto his feet, his other hand starting to move in earnest again as soon as anything resembling consciousness returns.

Really. **Really** needed that.

The pain in his shoulder is something Kolya can cope with - even if it does send a shiver of sense-memory through him that really isn’t welcome now. This is quickly lost, though, in the flurry of activity; the movement quick and desperate and full of an acute realisation of how dangerous this is.

That alone makes it all the more enticing. And it was pretty damn enticing to begin with.

This was never meant to be drawn-out. But the sheer speed at which Rodney comes is electrifying, the look in his eyes dragging Kolya fairly close to the edge all on its own - a very clear sign of how they have both needed this as much as the other.

And then Rodney’s returning the favour, the action pushing any kind of coherence out of Kolya’s mind for an equally short interval, before he too is coming, head back and practically biting his own lip to keep from crying out.

When Kolya tilts his head back, Rodney reluctantly drags his attention away from the man’s mouth to kiss, suck and nip at his offered throat, quietly shushing into his skin. He can’t remember how he could ever not have realised how damnably erotic Acastus Kolya pinned and panting against a wall could be. The sight and feel of him pulls low down in his belly, even though there’s no way in hell his body could recover in the time it wants to. Instead he contents with the frighteningly powerful way this... all of this is affecting him.

And then Kolya’s coming, too, and he can’t help but moan, low and wounded, muffling the noise in the other man’s throat. “Oh god yes I’ve missed you,” Rodney manages, hoarsely. He lifts the deathgrip keeping Kolya’s hand back, closing all the space between them - even if it is a very messily bad idea - and hugging him tightly before he can worry about whether or not he should be hugging him. “It’s been hell. I thought you were never coming.”

Hand finally free, Kolya wraps his arm around the doctor, fingers still tingling from the pressure with which Rodney was pinning him. All he can do right now is keep breathing - breathing and listening to Rodney do the same, because that sound is simply too wonderful to ignore. It represents so much more than just the intake of air... oh yes, this is the sound of intensity, of resolution... of them.

“I have missed you too,” Kolya replies, voice far from level in the aftermath of an experience like **that**. “More than I believed possible.”

“We have to work out something better than this, or I’m going to go insane,” Rodney tells Kolya, leaning his head on the other man’s shoulder. Shivering, despite the complete lack of cold. “Because if we keep having to run off to the bathrooms or the closets every time we meet, things are going to get... well.”

He seems content to stay there, just for the now. Curled up close.

But standing, and standing in a transporter are both bad ideas. Reluctantly he admits, “We should move. See if we can get to my room and change, then I can give you a quick tour.” Then he grins. Secrets are impossible things. “I want to take you to the mainland. In a real spaceship.” Sometimes, even geniuses can act like five-year-olds.

This is a very good point, and Kolya is well-aware of it. “I know,” he agrees, trying to hold Rodney even closer in awareness of the sudden shivering. “Interesting though it might be to tour the small, secluded areas of Atlantis, we would not go unnoticed forever.” 

And he’s not allowed to shoot people here if they happen to interrupt. Life can be so restrictive at times.

“A spaceship?” the commander repeats, sounding really rather intrigued. “So long as it has more legroom than the Wraith dart we appropriated, I would enjoy that.”

He would. Because spaceships? Are different.

“Oh ours are much better. Two seats up front, two in back, and room for... a dozen people at least, if you’re prepared to be friendly with one another.” Puddlejumpers make Rodneys happy. And Kolyas won’t notice when Rodneys take the scenic route by accident. Although if there are landmarks it should be easier to navigate...

He brushes his hand over Kolya’s cheek and kisses him lingeringly on the lips, before reluctantly pulling back... refastening some things, trying to cover others... “We’re going to have to walk very close to one another on the way to my room,” he points out, before moving to undo whatever it was he did to the crystal in the panel.

“This,” he says, when he’s done, pointing at a location on the teleporter screen, “is where you need to hit to get closest to my room. Not that it’s far. I picked a room I could get to the Gateroom and the labs in easily even if the transporters went down.” Then he pauses. “It isn’t very big, I’m afraid. I have got a slightly bigger bed now, but if it isn’t big enough I can always commandeer another room or get one further away for when you’re here... Or you could have your own room, if you really wanted to...”

As he pressed the screen already, they are there. The door is helpfully open, and the corridor mercifully empty. It’s possible that isn’t an accident.

“I would be more than happy to stay with you,” Kolya replies. “Provided that will not cause a... problem.”

Ah yes. Now there’s a point.

“On that topic... how much do your colleagues actually know about our relationship?”

As presentable as he’s going to get, all things considered, Kolya takes careful note of where they are and then follows Rodney out of the transporter. Which is... strange indeed. To see that door open on a completely different location, regardless of having been told about it beforehand.

Rodney flushes a little in embarrassment at the question. “I... well I had to tell Carson - Carson Beckett, he’s our doctor... and I had to tell Elizabeth. And Colonel Sheppard. And Teyla. I told Ronon but I think he was wondering why the hell I thought he would care. Colonel Sheppard... well. He’s not supposed to approve anyway, because the people he works for expel people for same-sex relationships. So. I had to tell him so it wouldn’t be a problem with his staff. They know we were together whilst I was on Geneva - which, I have to say, is just so **very** weird being called that - but I haven’t really gone into detail because it’s none of their business. If anything, Carson and Kate know the most... and oh, whoever helped acquire something bigger than a slat for my bed must have realised I’m not exactly single... was that what you meant?”

And then, thanks to Rodney’s long exposition, they’re at his door. He opens it by pressing a button. Then he stops, presses something more complicated and says “Hit this button, and I’ll program it to open for you.”

Kolya nods. “Yes. That was what I meant.” He’s not entirely surprised by the answer, either - having expected it from the way both Weir and Sheppard were behaving when they spoke to him. But it was a point that needed to be clarified.

In addition, getting used to all this odd Atlantean technology is going to be strange, even given the fact that he _has_ seen some of it before. As requested, he taps the button, wondering exactly how this will help.

“When you want to get in and I’m not here, just press that and it’ll open for you.” Rodney walks inside and points to another, smaller button. “And that locks it, if you don’t want people to come in. Although I’d appreciate if I didn’t have to break into my own room if I’m working too late or something and you fall asleep with it locked. Not that I plan on working late, it’s just sometimes not avoidable if we want to save the galaxy.”

The room is small, and the door hushes shut behind them. Very small. It doesn’t look like a room someone lives in, but where someone sleeps - and in truth that’s what it is. When he **does** sleep. Apart from the bed - just bigger than a single, but not quite as big as a double - there’s a small table with a laptop on, some storage off into another small room and a bathroom with all the essentials. Nothing else, apart from certificates and photographs of Rodney and his cats from over the years. If the man keeps his life in here, it’s well-hidden.

“Well. This is it.” He’s embarrassed. Again. “I usually spend my time in the lab. Not that I will now. It’s... well you can see what it is.” Flail. He holds his hand out awkwardly for Kolya’s.

Paying careful attention - not that he ever does anything else - Kolya takes note of what Rodney tells him. And then... he stares around the room.

It’s so very different from what he’s used to. Light. Airy, despite being smaller than his own room back on Geneva. And it isn’t what he expected somehow... having had mental images of what Rodney McKay’s quarters might be like for some time. He’s always expected to find that it would be... more complicated than this.

But. A room is a room, and so long as Rodney is in it, the rest is superfluous.

Noting that the doctor looks a little uneasy, Kolya gives him a light smile. “It’s good,” he says, aware that this is one of those response-needed moments. And then he takes hold of Rodney’s hand, fingers instantly locking around his.

Rodney smiles lopsidedly, ducking his head just a little. It isn’t good. It’s serviceable. But he’s had other things to worry about til now. “You’ll like the puddlejumper,” he promises.

Holding Kolya’s hand, he steps in close. Now they are in his room, and not hiding in the first private place they find, he has time. Time to let his fingertips lightly fall along the line of Kolya’s cheekbone as he kisses him slowly, paced. He’s been thinking a lot about how this will go, and aside from the frantic fumbles in the transporter, this was the scenario he thought about most. A slow, deliberate, confident kiss. He smiles, although he keeps close enough that Kolya can’t really see that. Although, eventually it has to stop.

“Shall we clean up, before I show you the best part?”

“That might be wise,” Kolya agrees, in between the kissing. Kissing which, it seems, he is in no hurry to end, fingers tracing along Rodney’s collarbone and lingering there, running across well-mapped contours, over and over.

This is all very distracting. In all Rodney’s own versions of this, he’d been much more self-controlled. He kisses Kolya again quickly, before reluctantly pulling back. “We should do it soon. Before we get... distracted.”

Sometimes, Kolya rather likes... distractions. But he is also well aware that there are things they need - and want - to do; important, liaison-related... things. Yes.

He really ought to sound more convinced, especially inside his own head.

So he nods, and, more than a little reluctantly, steps away and walks back over to where he dropped his bag when they first entered the room. Not surprisingly, it contains a predominance of khaki, and no sign whatsoever of the special black version.

This, in Kolya’s eyes, naturally constitutes a Good Thing.

***

Rodney is so used to rushing around that things like giving directions or allowing time for orientation are the last thing on his mind. Fortunately, he’s only walking to the transporter again.

“The hours are different on Atlantis. It’s difficult to explain, but I got you a watch. It’s been altered to run to the length of a day here, which is different from our planet. The minutes and hours are all defined by the cycle back on our planet, but it’s not that hard to learn.” He rummages in his pocket for the watch, then holds it out.

“Hours, minutes, seconds,” he says, pointing at each in turn. “Sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour. And the days here are about thirty-seven hours. Back on my planet, they’re twenty-four.” He stops fiddling with it.

“I’ll show you where the mess is - where we eat. There’s always something available there, but at specific times you get better fed than others. Here’s a list of times, and a map, and a list of other things I thought might be useful...”

He hands over the stapled pages with the essentials of Atlantean survival on. It’s modified from the briefing information new recruits on the _Daedalus_ are given. With things Rodney thinks Kolya needs to know added. He has spent a **very** long time thinking about this.

“If there’s anything else you need to know, tell me,” he says, as they enter the transporter a second time. “I tried to get everything down you might need to know, but it’s hard to know what you would need... to know. I know I’ve seen your planet but sometimes simple things can be really hard to understand in a different culture. Like Russia.”

Kolya nods, taking all this in, mind currently back to military-focus-style and therefore better suited for dealing with technical matters like time and location. Though he is also aware that Rodney has surely overthought this - something he both admires and appreciates. In a situation like this, the more he knows, the better.

In all honesty, the same can be said for any situation. But this one especially.

“I will let you know if any other issues arise,” he says, following Rodney into the transporter and fighting back the distracting mental images this causes, in favour of behaving himself for a while. “Now... where are we going?”

“To the puddlejumpers,” Rodney says with a grin born of a long, long, **long** held desire to fly around in spaceships. Technically said desires usually involved blond Uhura-types, but one learns new things with age.

He almost bounces out of the transporter, slightly giddy and dying to show off. “They’re just down here. I can fly them because I have the gene. I don’t know if you do but we can always see. We’ve only really just started to explore what they are really capable of...”

The good doctor’s enthusiasm is somewhat infectious, and Kolya finds himself smiling a little again, wondering how skilled a pilot Rodney is. For some reason, he gets the impression that this might all turn out to be an Experience... though sometimes that capital letter is a good thing.

“Where do you plan to fly us?” he asks. The commander may be overly questioning again, but at least he’s making a genuine effort at conversation.

“To the mainland. I was thinking about going part of the way underwater, but I’m going to leave that to Colonel Sheppard, because last time Radek didn’t fix the ship properly and I nearly drowned. But don’t worry, you aren’t likely to drown if I stay in the air.”

Walk walk walk. And then they are there, the puddlejumper hangar bay. It’s just as fun as when he did this to Sheppard. Maybe even more, because this time he’s the one who will fly the ship.

The room is suitably large and filled with several of the ships. There are a few missing - out in action, damaged beyond repair, lost before they arrived - but there are still a fair number of them.

“What do you think?”

Oh, now this is good. No wonder Cowan had wanted one of the things back during the storm siege. But that thought is not helpful, so Kolya forces it back and focuses again.

“Most impressive,” he remarks, staring around at the puddlejumper bay - around, and _up_.

 **That** is a view. Plus, the fact that it has an almost bunker-esque quality adds to the effect somewhat.

Rodney nods at one of the jumpers. “We’ll go in this one. I checked it over myself so nothing should go wrong. Not that it often does, it was just that that one time the ship had been damaged and... well. That’s long gone now.”

The door opens up to a press or two to a datapad he’s been carrying, and it opens to reveal the rear of the jumper: there are a few things stored in it, but it’s mostly tidy, packed and clean. Rodney walks to the front and sits in the pilot’s chair, before nodding at Kolya to take the other front seat. “Right. Ready?” he asks, rubbing his hands together.

Kolya knows this is going to be strange - like the dart had been strange, like looking out of that window above the Planet for the first time had been strange. But this time, he at least has the luxury of not being in mortal danger, and therefore more able to savour the moment, the new experience - and the being shut in a small space with Rodney McKay. Again.

He takes the seat beside Rodney, looking at the array of controls in front of them. It all looks pleasingly complicated.

“Ready,” he replies.

Rodney makes a show of the button-pressing. He hasn’t been able to press buttons other people can’t press for far too long. So he makes sure he announces everything he’s doing as he does it, too. Partly so Kolya can familiarise himself with things, partly because people always do that on ships, and partly to hear his own smug voice. Because he has reason to be... smug.

He clears his takeoff with the Gateroom, and huge doors swing open and more and... then – as smoothly as they aren’t even moving – they are out over the water. Rodney takes them up a bit, then (slightly awkwardly) turns, so Kolya can actually see the city itself from the outside.

“And that...” he says, “is Atlantis.” It really is very pretty. Even Rodney noticed, the first time he saw the tall spires in the perpetual blue skies, dotted only by the occasional cloud. Very, very pretty. He lets Kolya look for a moment, waiting to see if he’s just being pointlessly sentimental.

The flight seems so gentle, all things considered, and Kolya idly finds himself wondering why. This, of course, is because they don’t teach Inertial Dampeners 101 in Advanced Genii Interrogation Tactics.

And then there’s the city, lying majestically on the surface of the sparkling, crystal sea. It looks so much more impressive than suggested by the schematics Kolya has seen - but then, that isn’t really a surprise. Something that big is destined to be well worth viewing.

For a moment, he’s staring and staring, mind quieter than it has been in weeks, almost transfixed by the swathe of towers making up the city... _that_ city. No wonder so many people would sorely love to take it. But then, he’s been impressed by Atlantis since the first day he saw it.

Again with the memories that he’s **not** thinking about.

“Magnificent,” he says, eventually, the genuine edge of awe not lost in his voice.

Oh thank god it’s not just him then. Rodney’s smile is on an outbreath of relief, one of those uncomplicated smiles that doesn’t have any hint of the smug or smirk behind it. “She can fly, you know,” he says, suddenly. “Well, not now she can’t. But when she had all the power she was designed for... those ZPMs... she could fly. Float. Sit at the bottom of the ocean, waiting. Miraculous, isn’t it?”

His fingers fly again, and then he stands up. “Want to see if you can fly her? You might not be able to, only some people have the gene. I’d ask for gene therapy for you, but I don’t think Elizabeth would be happy with that just yet... especially not if I’m teaching you to fly. But we can try...”

“The entire city can fly?” Kolya asks, sounding really quite surprised. That fact, certainly, was not in any dossier he ever read, and he’s fairly confident he saw most of them, if not all. “That would be extremely impressive to see.”

The commander is somewhat surprised by Rodney’s offer, and stares at him for a moment. He certainly didn’t expect this - and having only been in one other small spaceship in his entire life, he wonders if it would be a good idea.

On the other hand, he simply does not back down from a challenge, whether obscure and friendly, or open and hostile. “All right,” he agrees, standing up to switch seats.

“It would wouldn’t it... well. We’d need at least three ZPMs, so don’t hold your breath. It was hard enough getting the one we do have. Apparently, back on Earth, they went through this whole time-travelling alternate universe thing to get it. Although why they thought they could do it without messing up the timestream... Well. I wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t.”

Rodney doesn’t sit, but hovers behind the pilot’s chair. “Just put your hands here... and here... and... think about it. Just think about slowly turning the ship to the left, until we’re facing away from the city again.”

This seems like a very odd instruction, even despite the fact that Kolya has been watching Rodney work the ship. Though the Genii do not use anything that flies - being, as they are, underground people - the commander still has some preconceived ideas of how one might set about operating a ship of this kind.

‘Think about slowly turning’ never seemed like an obvious method.

But Kolya does what Rodney tells him, laying his hands over the control pads and trying to concentrate on something that he really does not normally have cause to think about.

And then? The ship moves. Actually _moves_. When the full irony of this finally hits him, it will make the mind-katas worse for hours.

The ship does not, of course, **feel** like it is moving, but Rodney was doubting Kolya’s genetic predisposition so strongly that when the city and the ocean outside... move... it makes him feel a little dizzy, and he clamps down onto the back of Kolya’s seat.

“Oh. Okay. Well... I think it’s safe to say you have the gene.” He swallows, convulsively, and then some of what lingering traces of social decorum he has hunt him down and tug on his sleeve. “That was... fairly well done. Congratulations.” The words sound strange coming from Rodney, because it isn’t natural to him to congratulate anyone else who succeeds around him, because people succeeding around him makes him that tiny little bit less important.

But still. Any immature jealousy over natural gene-bearers he might feel is rather well hidden right now. Unless you’re scrutinising his behaviour minutely, of course. He leans over and presses things until the HUD appears before them. Then he checks the bearing. “Keep turning until I say stop.”

Given that he **really** was not expecting anything to happen, Kolya actually looks somewhat surprised by the fact that the ship appears to be moving. Were he paying more attention to anything else, he’d notice a lot more in Rodney’s voice than he does - although he detects enough to catch the gist of it. 

“Pure luck, I assure you.”

He keeps concentrating on making the ship turn - slowly, because he’s not entirely sure what would happen if his mind tried something more daring. After all, sending them spiralling down into oblivion would hardly be a good way to spend the afternoon.

Possibly thinking about that is something he ought to avoid. Just in case.

“It happens. Carson has it but doesn’t really have any control. Colonel Sheppard can charm the pants off any device he touches.” No bitterness there, no. “I was given... gene therapy. I can fly the puddlejumpers fine, but I’m much better at the really technical and theoretical stuff so it doesn’t matter anyway. Someone else flies the ship while I do the important work.”

No. Issues. Here.

“Stop. Okay. Now... can I?”

Kolya would really prefer not to think about Colonel Sheppard charming the pants off **anything** , thank you very much. Or, in fact, think about him at all.

“Certainly,” he replies, moving to relinquish the controls at once. Learning to fly might be interesting, but right now, it isn’t what he wants to concentrate on.

It takes a little concentration to engage the auto-pilot, but as it’s just straight-flying until they hit the mainland - not hit, bad choice of word - reach the mainland, it isn’t hard.

And then Rodney sits back. “There. Now she’ll keep going until we reach the mainland. Hopefully.” He says that cheerfully.

Settling in the co-pilot’s seat once more, Kolya looks sideways at Rodney. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised about the fact that, if the ship can be flown by thought, it can also fly itself.

But he is.

“How long will that be?” he asks, the surprise not actually showing.

“Oh, half an hour... at most.” When you’ve made the ship go really slowly. On purpose. Possibly he has a bit of a devil in him, does Rodney.

Kolya would probably be more than a little amused by this if he knew.

“Ah... so that implies that we have some time to kill.”

The man should not be allowed to use words like ‘kill,’ even in the most innocuous way. Ever.

Rodney nods. “I thought we might want to catch up. And there’s a diplomatic meeting going on in the city with some people or other who are too technologically unadvanced for me to care. So I thought you’d prefer... well. This. With any luck, we’ll miss it altogether.”

“A diplomatic meeting?” Kolya repeats, picking up on the point at once. “Who with?”

The commander is unlikely to be particularly interested, although he feels he ought to know who it is in case he runs into them, and it turns out to be someone he does in fact know. Because there are one or two races with whom the Genii in general - and Kolya in particular - have Issues.

“Some people called the Moirans,” Rodney says, sounding singularly uninterested. “They’re interested in technological exchange, but they haven’t really got anything I’m interested in. But Radek is better at these things than I am. I have no time to listen to people telling me how wonderful their irrigation systems are.”

“Ah. Not a race I am familiar with.” Which means Kolya is likely to share Rodney’s lack of interest in the whole matter - though perhaps for some different reasons. He stares out of the front window for a moment, watching the crystal-blue sea sweep endlessly below them, slow and still and silent and... different.

And then the instant passes, and Kolya is looking at Rodney again. He feels... well. Oddly calm, actually. For him, at least.

“Tell me more about the place we are going to,” he asks.

“The mainland? Well. I don’t come out here very often, so I don’t know it particularly well. It gets enough rain so there’s lots of trees and other crops... some small wildlife that the Athosians hunt... they have a small village there, all huts like they had back on their planet. I know your people traded with them superficially, but I don’t know if you know the level of technology amongst those kinds of farmer-hunter people...”

“It’s... quiet,” he goes on. “Quieter than in the city. It’s always work and rush and missions. I know some people come out here, just to get away. Though it isn’t really made public. Not some people, anyway.”

Rodney pauses, hands resting on the panel in front of him. “I came out here, when I was so tired of all the questions and probes and people wondering if I was going to go crazy and kill them. I came out here... and that’s all.” A pause, and he turns. “What have you been doing, or should I really not ask?”

This is something Kolya understands all too well - the need to get away. He understands it from both sides, of course - both the personal need to escape, and the things that might drive others to do so.

Because sometimes, even duelling doesn’t help.

“I have been working,” he replies. And because elaborating on this is better than letting it hang, he goes on, “After the signing of the Convention, Cowan was left with no choice but to put me back on full active duty. However, there has been no call for me to travel offworld - much as I might have been hoping to see some action - and as a result, I have spent my time continuing to train my squad - as well as being involved in an... ongoing project.”

This ‘ongoing project’ might in fact be something he was involved with during the latter half of Rodney’s stay on Geneva - and something that the commander wasn’t entirely happy to talk about then, either.

When people don’t break easily, persistence is needed. And this is something Kolya does not think Rodney wants to hear about. At all.

If Rodney notices currents of hesitation, he doesn’t seem to let on about it. Which could mean that he either doesn’t notice it at all, notices it and is ignoring it, or that he notices it and is very good at covering this up. To know quite which is currently true would require considerable, considerable skill. And a slight element of luck.

“Have there been any problems?” Rodney asks, eventually. “Not that you have to tell me and not that it’s important, it’s just that I think about things sometimes and then I ask anyway.”

Rodney wants to say something. Really. Maybe. Possibly. He thinks. But it could wait, maybe. Possibly. It has so far.

“Nobody’s told me about any but they probably wouldn’t know and almost certainly wouldn’t want **me** to know,” he elaborates.

“There have been one or two isolated incidents, mostly involving those who did not believe our alliance with your people was a wise move. Said incidents were dealt with before any kind of trouble could arise.”

Interestingly, Athos Leontis was not involved in any such incidents - which Kolya suspects, rather bitterly, is likely to signal something worse on the horizon. He doesn’t mention it, though. Oh no. He only _thinks_ about it for a very short time indeed, before Athos gets kicked off his mental radar again.

And then he’s staring at Rodney, carefully, because Rodney has one of _those_ looks, and he wants to know why.

“What is it?” the commander asks. He doesn’t need to say any more than this - because even if Rodney won’t answer, he will still know what Kolya means.

“Nothing,” Rodney says, immediately. Maybe a little too quickly. “I just... I couldn’t sleep last night. I’ve been up for nearly forty hours. I’m... just tired.”

It was probably a very bad idea not to sleep, but he really couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried. And he didn’t want to be groggy from sleeping pills when Kolya got here. Instead, he planned on just carrying on until one or both of them eventually fell unconscious sometime tonight - or early tomorrow morning. That’s a nice thought. He smiles about it.

“I made sure the work proper doesn’t start til tomorrow afternoon. So you can sleep off the... planet lag.” Which sounded eminently unreasonable when he raised the issue with Elizabeth and Colonel Sheppard. Though Elizabeth was much more polite about it.

The commander gives Rodney a look of his own. “Rodney,” he says, serious but not trying to sound particularly pushy. “That is the expression you use when you want to say something, but are holding back for some reason. It might be wiser if you just said whatever it is.”

Plus, I want to know.

“Later,” Rodney says, going from denial to admission in seemingly no time whatsoever. “It’s... not now. I’ll tell you when I can. Okay?”

It takes a lot for an interrogator to concede a point like that. A lot. Though Kolya would likely insist his response is delayal, not concession.

“All right.”

Rodney watches the ocean. It’s strange, because he’s flying slowly and he really has no reason to. He just... wanted to. “I can make the ship go faster, if you want,” he says, of a sudden.

“Whatever you like. I am... content at this speed.”

This speed means longer to get there, means longer to not-talk. Even though Rodney knows putting it off will only make it harder to say.

Silence. Silence. “Can you... can you talk to me? All I can think to say is pointless and the... silence is oppressing me.” It’s an earnest request. Rodney bites his lip, and drags his eyes to Kolya’s face. “I know I had hundreds of things to say but I’ve apparently forgotten them all.”

Always a difficult request to deal with, even after practice. Though impressively, Kolya manages to think of something without much of a noticeable pause.

“Jerran asked after you, a couple of days ago,” Kolya says. “He wondered how your return home might be going. It is entirely possible he misses you more than he will admit.” And then a slightly wry smile crosses the commander’s face. “I doubt, however, that he misses having **me** around all the time.”

“He did?” Rodney actually seems genuinely surprised. He wasn’t particularly nice to Jerran. And by ‘not particularly nice’ it would probably be best to understand it as ‘petty-minded and belligerently irritating’ due to being confined in a decaffeinated workplace for so long, with no cute minions.

“He did. Possibly you had a greater psychological effect on him than I expected.”

“He should come here sometime. So I can show him what he’s really missing out on, and maybe he can push for some of the changes I suggested.”

Kolya smiles a little at that. “Perhaps I will offer him the chance to join me the next time I visit.” The man’s reaction alone would make the suggestion - and any acceptance of the offer - worthwhile.

“He really mustn’t get many visitors at all then,” the doctor muses. Poor Jerran. Although, in a way, it would be nice not to be constantly hounded by people.

Fingers drum the dull metal. Rodney presses something unassumingly, wanting to be there faster. “I brought some coffee. And some chocolate. And other things, in case you were hungry. I forgot to take you to the mess hall...” Well, he had been slightly distracted. “And I had some things sent from my homeworld too, that I thought you’d like. But they can wait til we get back.”

“If you have brought something, we can eat outdoors when we arrive. Although,” and suddenly Kolya’s smile is more wry again, “if you want to forego sleeping up one of the trees, I’ll understand.”

At that suggestion, Rodney all but scoffs. “Please. When I have a nice, semi-large bed? Or, failing that, a nice, weatherproof puddlejumper? Trees are best seen and not experienced. Well, not like that anyway.”

“Rodney, where _is_ your sense of adventure?” Kolya asks, though it’s clear from his tone that he’s not entirely serious. Well. Probably.

And also, he appears to be thinking about trees again.

“My sense of adventure was almost entirely used up when I realised that by coming to a completely alien planet in a completely alien galaxy with no clue whether I could ever go home and a sudden influx of aliens who want to eat me alive, or aliens who want to keep me alive and use me as a human computer meant that my every day was a terrifying gauntlet of mental and emotional demands and very little sleep.”

And then he turns away from the viewscreen. “Although considering our... escapade in the transporter, and our imminent excursion here, I may have some unplumbed reserves left...”

This earns the good doctor both a Look, and a slight grin. “Oh, you are more daring than you realise. The question, I think, is how much more?”

“Not to the extent that I end up with splinters or broken legs,” Rodney replies immediately. “Permanent physical injury is entirely out.” And he really shouldn’t have said that. He goes a little red when he realises, then looks back out to the thin, wobbly smudge of green on the horizon.

There are very few people who can go from smile to smirk faster than Acastus Kolya, especially after a remark like that. But then, of course, there are very few people who can give him reason to.

Currently only one, in fact. 

His voice drops to what can only be classed as a very, very interesting level. Interesting, and interest _ed_. “What about temporary?”

“Well that all depends on how much... fun it is.” Rodney’s voice only wavers a little, and he’s suddenly watching himself respond - respond in a way he really never expected himself to be able to. Calm. (Mostly.) 

“Why, what were you thinking of, Acastus?” he asks, hands moving over the panels even when he isn’t looking at them any more. It’s entirely possible he’s showing off. It’s entirely possible he has been all along.

It is an undeniable fact of life that people generally have certain triggers to which they cannot help responding. Some enjoy power. Others enjoy not having it. Some enjoy words, ways of speaking, specific situations. Some, apparently, enjoy footwear - but then, the universe is a strange place. 

Kolya, it turns out, has more than a slight weakness to the use of his own first name - which is perhaps an explanation as to why very few people ever get to be on first name terms with him. As such, when Rodney speaks, the commander abandons any lingering attempt at behaving himself (and really, he has been far too restrained for far too many days of late;) one hand darting out suddenly to catch Rodney’s closer wrist as he works the panels. 

“Telling you would damage the effect somewhat,” he replies.

The movement is unexpected and, as such, Rodney jumps a little, his attention dragged fully away from his navigation. He blinks, eyes wide – no shame in being shocked – and he struggles to swallow despite not having anything he needs to... swallow.

“They aren’t expecting us back until late, and they won’t need us until morning,” he says, although it’s information Kolya could have already have garnered. Still. It is an acknowledgement, in a sense. “So, as long as I’m unscarred and not driven entirely out of my mind... I’m open to... some ideas.”

Reluctantly, he drags his attention back to the panel and viewscreen momentarily, so that he doesn’t send them crashing into the coastline, but then - after a pause - he looks back. **That** kind of look. “The jumper is... well-stocked with provisions,” he says, as unsmarmy as he can.

Judging by Kolya’s current expression, this response constitutes a Good Thing. Possibly even a Very Good Thing. “I see you have thought this through,” he states.

Then he tugs on Rodney’s wrist a little - not enough to make him move, but enough to imply that he might do so at any moment. “Tell me... how much attention does this ship need whilst it flies us to the mainland?”

“I think everything through. I’m good at thinking.” But not, apparently, at talking. Internally, Rodney cringes, just ever so slightly. 

“It depends on if we want to... stall for a while. I could have us approach slow... and long... carefully, in fact. Or we could just... stay. In one place. If you have something pressing that needs attention.” And that wasn’t horrendously bad innuendo. Oh no.

Kolya gives him a look that is far, far too full of bad ideas – _good_ bad ideas. And when he speaks, he keeps that dangerous edge to his voice – the edge that constantly raises the question of whether he is thinking what he _seems_ to be thinking, or whether he has something else in mind. 

“I think a long, slow, drawn-out approach might be called for.” It appears he’s all in favour of the bad innuendo, too.

Rodney nods silently, then gently pulls his hand back, testing to see if Kolya will let go. When he does, he lets his hands fall on the panels with an understated ease and grace he rarely shows when flying. Intent is nine-tenths of Ancient technology, anyway, and he’s rarely been this... driven when giving a command outside of a life-or-death situation.

“I’ve slowed us until we’re almost not moving at all,” he says, levelly. “It will take hours to get there, unless I... make it speed up again.”

All this... unspokenness is... strange. He’s usually so very blunt and direct, and talking obliquely is something he’s not at all practiced in. “We can’t go much slower without going backwards,” Rodney adds. Because it’s true, and because he needs something to... say.

For the moment, Kolya is willing to let go of Rodney - after all, it is unwise not to let the person flying the ship actually do so. He watches, intent, as the ship is slowed, and the world outside begins to pass by at a greatly reduced pace. 

Perfect.

He nods lightly, to show that he’s taken in what’s been said. And then he pauses. Pauses just long enough to raise the question of what he might be waiting for. There are, after all, three key elements to consider in both interrogation and foreplay: 

Words, actions, and timing.

Kolya is good at all three, but if you were going to fault him on one, it would be on the first. It would most definitely **not** be on the last.

He stands, moving into the space behind the cockpit chairs, watching Rodney all the time, speaking when he’s where he wants to be. “Come here,” he says - and though his tone isn’t hostile, his words don’t sound much like a request.

As a rule, Rodney does not like to be ordered about. In practice, he would only really follow willingly if Elizabeth Weir or John Sheppard ordered him. Other people’s advice he would take under consideration.

But still, this is different. Mostly. And it’s so humiliating and... dangerous. Because admitting you will follow shows you are capable of being subordinate. Admits to trust and all sorts of unspoken things. Is a very definite indicator, if done against normal practice.

Rodney does not come immediately when called, but he doesn’t wait long either. So. Very.... yes. “I am,” he says, when he’s close. Wondering, and fretting ever so slightly. Anticipation.

Kolya now raises a hand to draw Rodney in, palm resting on the side of his head, leaning to kiss him – slowly and deeply, and almost gently; which is odd, all things considered.

Reassurance. Because no matter what he’s thinking – and oh, he **is** thinking - there is no way Kolya is going to risk actually upsetting Rodney. Not now. Not considering how much the other man means to him. 

After a moment he breaks apart, re-establishing eye contact before speaking. “Listen carefully,” he begins. “I want to try something, and I need you to trust me when I say that I won’t hurt you.”

Kisses are good. Really, really good. And normal. Well, normal now. And far too resonant, because of everything that’s passed between them so far. Rodney’s eyes are closed as they kiss, his fingers just barely making contact with the commander’s cuff. He makes the tiniest little sound of dismay as Kolya pulls back, but he opens his eyes, lashes fluttering, and manages to keep eye contact - mostly. 

“I do, but I bruise easily... I’m really rather sensitive to things, which you probably know already, so sometimes things hurt when they wouldn’t hurt other people. Hypersensitivity. Just... so you know.” Which isn’t really a confirmation of trust, as far as these things go. Because Rodney really is rather worried about things that pertain to his physical and emotional well-being. Maybe a little too worried. “It isn’t that I think you will hurt me, it’s that I... worry you might not realise how easy it is. For me, that is. Well, obviously for me...”

This brings a slight smile to Kolya’s lips - but it is a different kind of smile to those that have appeared of late. This - in most other situations - would likely signify a warning to take cover or risk the consequences. Here, however, it probably means something a little safer. 

Probably.

Instead of making a proper reply to what Rodney has said - because that would involve more of an emotional response than he thinks would be suitable right now - Kolya slips his thumb under Rodney’s chin, keeping the other man’s head up. “I know what will hurt you,” he says, voice still incredibly level, “I know what will not... and I know the difference.”

Because **that** doesn’t have any disturbing connotations. Doesn’t remind Rodney of things he really does wish he could fully forget. That had hurt. Hurt but not... so much that he ever fully lost his control, his sanity. But it did. Hurt.

He winces, ever so slightly, unconsciously favouring his arm. “You’re probably right. I’m just... scared you’ll over-estimate me. That’s all.” This is probably so far from the book it’s in the next bookshop. Really. Really. Dangerous. Asking for a nervous breakdown, one might think. His eyes cloud slightly under his furrowed brow as he tries to think this through. He doesn’t want to say no to Kolya, and he doesn’t really want to expose more weakness than is entirely necessary. He stares, looking for the answer – one way or another – in Kolya’s eyes.

“...okay.” But no breaking. And no purple. And no animal noises - especially not dinosaur ones. But those clauses are all just inside his head: he figures now would be a really bad time to voice those kinds of thoughts. Instead he nods, almost imperceptibly. “Okay.” At the minute.

Kolya... is slipping into interesting mindspace again. It’s something he does without thinking whilst working, but he’s able to be hyper-aware of it whilst **not** working.

To begin with, at least. The problem tends to be that, after a time, the hyper-awareness fades. And though he never loses sight of what he’s doing, or thinking, or saying, he has to try harder to counteract his own instincts, to avoid acting automatically. 

So he tries to mentally kick himself back to a more workable mindset for this situation, because losing himself in the **other** place would be unwise this early on. Of course, all this happens in seconds, and all of it lurks unseen behind his eyes... but it does offer one explanation for the almost imperceptible pause, before Kolya speaks again. 

“Good,” he half-whispers, leaning closer. “Now... turn around.”

Not good. Really not good. Up there on the list of not good with rolling up the legs of your pants to show your pale white skin, insulting every jock in the school and then lying on your front in the mud the better to let them kick you in the kidneys.

Not that Rodney ever did that, of course. Only had nightmares about it.

This does not explain why, after a second’s pause, he does. Turn. Inexorably slowly, jittery, trying to work out what the hell he’s signed up for and how anticipating it will help. His hands clench and unclench by his sides. “If anybody is tracking the ship,” he points out, almost entirely non-sequitur, “they’re going to be confused at exactly what we’re playing at.” And probably, not guess correctly. Because even Rodney can’t, right now.

Sometimes, Kolya wonders if life would be easier if he wasn’t so fascinated by fear. And sometimes, he knows that is precisely the point. He is acutely aware that, right now, Rodney is nervous. Worried. Possibly as far as frightened. 

Now to some extent, that, again, is precisely the point. But it is important to remember that the intention behind all this is to attempt a different way to make Rodney feel really, really good - and not, in fact, to send him into shock. 

Odd how closely those two can be linked at times.

With this in mind, Kolya doesn’t make his next move at once, but instead leans to kiss Rodney slowly and lightly at the base of his neck; another gesture of reassurance. 

Now, to those Genii who have an interest in... areas such as this, there is a concept more or less identical to the Human idea of a safeword. That is not what they call it, but the working is unchanged. And though Kolya is aware of all this, he doesn’t mention it – not because he is unwilling to work with the concept (even if it is, admittedly, most odd for an interrogator) but because he doesn’t want to give away anything about what he might be thinking. 

Besides. If Rodney seriously tells him to stop, Kolya will stop.

After a moment, he replies, “I know. But we can deal with that later.” And says no more. Not yet, still involved as he is in kissing the back of Rodney’s neck, delaying the inevitable, heightening the apprehension. For both of them. 

And _then_ he makes his next measured move, leaning around to take off the doctor’s jacket, fingers trailing over his sides as he does so.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rodney says. “I could be teaching you to fly. It could be anything, and it isn’t their business anyway. I was just... thinking aloud.” 

Rodney’s shoulders are tense and taut, but he lowers his head just a little under the kisses. It makes this slightly easier to rationalise. Only slightly.

Not that this could be rationalised much. Oh no. 

His breathing is deeper, but not slower yet. He hasn’t quite managed that part so far. His eyes are closed because it’s slightly easier that way, but that doesn’t make this... situation any more sensical.

Words. There need to be. Words. Of some kind. “If you need anything, you can... ask. Because I know where things are. Of course. Otherwise asking me would be pointless.”

This, naturally, is a good point - and one that Kolya would no doubt have got around to before long. “What did you bring?” he asks, voice still more level than seems natural.

Tossing the jacket aside, Kolya slips a hand under Rodney’s shirt, fingers dragging slowly over his skin. Practice and experience have left him with a very clear knowledge of exactly how to make Rodney shiver when he does that - and he’s paying particular attention to those facts now.

In contrast, Rodney’s voice is not by any sense of the word calm. But then, his voice rarely is. Only occasionally does he manage to keep anger, fear, excitement, confusion or even self-satisfaction out of his cadence and even voice-speed. And he certainly isn’t trying to control it now, so it stammers and stutters quickly, his mind moving too fast for anything else to keep up.

“I-I brought.... food and drink like I told you... aaand there’s a.... mat in case the ground was damp and insect-repellent and suncream and... cutlery and mugs...” The list stalls somewhere, and he’s clearly fighting to remember what on earth he brought. That or... he’s thought ahead about how this is going to sound, and is... well. Reticent. “...there are spare clothes and cloths and wipes and things to freshen up with and—” ridiculously difficult to say, considering, “—lubricant of course, and there’s standard first-aid and survival supplies and a lifesigns detector and a warm blanket, in case anyone got cold or wet....”

There may be more things. It’s entirely possible. But right now, Rodney honestly cannot remember another thing. His hands are halfway between up and down, not wanting to be still, but also aware that Kolya might not necessarily take too kindly to him moving too much. Regardless, he moves so his fingers just brush the hairs on the backs of Kolya’s hands, not touching, but... wanting to touch. Because this? Is not easy. He’s not the quiescent type.

Well. That was rather more detail than Kolya was expecting. Though he isn’t entirely surprised, given that it didn’t take a great deal of imagination to figure out why Rodney was so eager to leave Atlantis and head off to the mainland – which, by his own admission, is where one goes when one wants time alone. Or time alone with someone. Which really isn’t technically ‘alone.’ But still. 

Now. Time to get to the interesting part. His hands are already positioned to take off Rodney’s shirt, so without saying anything more, he tugs it upwards from the hem, fully expecting Rodney to move his arms accordingly.

Rodney does not process the fact that he has a face full of shirt and is tangled up in fabric immediately, probably because his mind was still wandering in and out of the things he mentioned, coming up with a surprisingly long list of ideas he wasn’t aware his mind was capable of. Well, he was aware his mind was capable of it, he just never really thought about all possible uses of _that_ and _that_ , especially in conjunction with... _that_.

Although he does wonder why he never thought it was a good idea before. Possibly a lack of opportune moments.

Then his mind decides to get back with the project, because whilst thinking about things like that is fun, **doing** them is a whole lot more fun. So he lifts his arms. “Sorry. Sorry. I was... distracted.” Somehow he still manages to get a bit more tangled, though.

And still, Kolya doesn’t say anything. Yet. It is more than likely he is doing this deliberately – not because he has nothing to say, but in order to make the lack of words more noticeable, so as to increase the effect when he does actually speak.

It’s entirely possible that he’s far too good at things like that.

The commander tosses Rodney’s shirt aside, tracing a finger across his shoulders, one last seemingly idle gesture before he finally breaks the silence. 

“On your knees.”

Hopefully, the silence is the only thing those three words will break.

“...?”

Somehow, Rodney is capable of making audible a confused question without actually using any words. It’s tangible, but it’s difficult to say exactly how. Just... to know it’s there.

He wavers, just a little, swaying as though caught in some breeze. He half looks over his shoulder, not entirely sure what he’s looking for. There’s... clear worry in his face. Undisguised worry. And that question again, that stays even when he tries – with great difficulty – to comply. It’s entirely possible he’s not wholly committed to this idea. But – almost looking wounded – he does. And then sits back on his calves, hands fiddling in his lap.

“...we could... we could get the mat out, perhaps, if this is going to be...” His blush deepens, “....physical.” Forceful. Violent. All those other words. Really, really not entirely on board with this plan at all.

Before making any kind of response – verbal or otherwise – to any of this, Kolya pauses. All of the other times, this was done for effect. But _this_ time, he does it to give himself an extra second or two to think. And he does need to think – because he’s still forcing himself to act in a calculated way, as opposed to falling back on instinct. So long as he keeps making a conscious decision to do so, he can better control what’s going on inside his head.

Oh. Does that make his own mind the Good One? There’s something oddly... wrong about that thought, so he stops thinking it.

Mostly.

This is such a tricky balancing act. Keeping someone afraid is easy. Doing it with very specific limits – even if you don’t mention them – is much less so. 

He runs one hand through Rodney’s short hair, the touch – like so many of the others – more gentle than seems appropriate, given everything else. “That will not be necessary. I have told you that I won’t hurt you... and I mean it.”

And then, without further elaboration, he also drops lightly onto his knees, staying close behind Rodney, not yet making contact again.

Internally, Rodney is busy replying that whilst Kolya might not find floors like this painful, he could easily get a chill because he doesn’t sleep well and his system is constantly strained to maximum capacity before all the weird stuff. Weird alien stuff. Not this weird stuff. He does, however, manage to listen to his quiet internal editor enough not to let those words out.

But it’s a close-run thing.

This is not good not good so very not good – so not good he could draw up a bullet-point list with sub-points to clarify all of the ways in which this is not good. And which raises all sorts of questions about his self-image and self-confidence if someone being behind him can freak him out so much. Even without anyone there, Rodney would be able to feel breath across his neck, and some old, old instinctive part of his brain is currently feeding in information hard-wired into any creature with a delicate and important spine: do not break this. Do not let your throat split. Live. Run.

Even calm, non-timid, self-collected persons in the presence of entirely unthreatening others would be hard pressed not to have bad feelings about this.

Rodney doesn’t move. This is could be a good sign; because he’s not trying to run screaming from the room, or incapacitate Kolya. It’s also possibly a bad sign if the lack of movement is from complete terror, rather than a conscious – if difficult – decision. Rodney shakes. It is difficult to tell.

Fear. There is no emotion more raw and fundamental and _honest_ than that – and though Kolya knows liking it is dangerous, he also, alas, happens to like danger. And though his common sense is telling him, over and over, **not** to break Rodney McKay whilst trying to make things interesting, said common sense is having difficulty overriding the other things.

The inside of his head, right now, would both delight and terrify a team of psychologists for weeks.

He moves closer, fingers brushing lightly against Rodney’s skin again - but no more than that. Not yet. And then he speaks, knowing before he does that his words are going to raise the fear levels still further; all the while hoping – really, really hoping – that Rodney will be able to deal with this.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

All of a sudden, Rodney goes tense. Not that he wasn’t tense before, of course, he has just reached dizzying new heights of tenseness. Rigor, almost.

Rodney does not appreciate commands. Rodney, in fact, treats most commands as an invitation to disobey, and to complain about the lack of authority in the person doing the commanding. He sees it, rather, as an insult. He does **not** acknowledge any higher authority than himself. Except in matters of art. And maybe flying. And even then he baulks and makes life miserable for everyone when said authorities try their hand at authoritiness.

Rodney’s hands do not move. Rodney himself does not move. There is a distinct lack of anything approaching obedience. And it isn’t through fear, it’s through outright rebellion. This is why he didn’t – hasn’t – broken. He’s very. Very. Stubborn. And proud. Humouring Kolya can get one so far and no further. Not without a fight, anyway. The silence is not timid. It is still worried and frightened, but also very, very belligerent and bellicose.

In all honesty, Kolya is not surprised by this response – or lack thereof. In fact, one might go so far as to suggest that he has been waiting for it; that he was interested in exactly how long it would be before Rodney stopped acquiescing.

It doesn’t – on the surface, at least – present a problem. Kolya is, after all, a rather persuasive individual at heart.

He says nothing, but leans closer, reaching around to take hold of Rodney’s hands and pull them behind his back. The move isn’t forceful, as such, though it is certainly firmer than anything else he’s done so far.

Rodney does not make it easy. He lets Kolya move them to about his sides, and then he tries to lock his elbows. It’s an entirely ridiculous situation, all things considered. And not talking about it is even more ridiculous. But still. He feels it’s an important move in a way.

Then he turns his head slightly, trying to see Kolya – trying to see his eyes. He pulls harder, trying to pull Kolya’s hands forward with his own.

Most people, after a certain point – most people who aren’t one of life’s yes-men – find strange points of extreme importance when pushed. Apparently, this is Rodney’s, right now.

Right. There are two ways to deal with this latest turn of events, and Kolya would much prefer to avoid one of them. The alternative, however, involves speaking again. Maintaining his hold on Rodney’s wrists, Kolya moves to speak close to the doctor’s ear.

“Stop fighting me,” he says, tone quiet but firm – though it isn’t an easy request to make. Kolya really, really does not want this to go too far, but the only alternative to going on is stopping outright, which he will not do unless Rodney asks. 

Rodney struggles some more, just enough so he can look behind him. “I don’t see why this is necessary,” he says, even though that is not the reason he’s being awkward at all. His nostrils flare in barely-repressed frustration.

The unspoken question being, why on earth are we doing this and why should I do what you want me to? And also – some desire to prove he isn’t just a... a push-over. Or something.

“Not _necessary_ ,” Kolya states. “Merely... interesting. I told you I wanted to try something, and I told you that you can trust me.”

That statement has unspoken levels, too. Such as, either tell me to stop – and I will – or please, please try to relax. Though saying that might break the effect, somewhat. So he doesn’t.

There is a considerable amount of pride involved here. Considerable. But also, just underneath, a considerable amount of doubt, too. Because as proud as he tries to seem, it doesn’t take a genius to see the Rodney doth protest too much sometimes.

Of course, letting Kolya order him about? And humiliate him like this? Is treading dangerously close to the unhappy, scared, self-doubting side. The side that comes out in the dark, in the field, alone at night.

And then there’s the way he really still is somewhat irrationally angry about this.

Rodney stops trying to pull his hands forwards again, with a small grunt of concession. But if Kolya wants his hands behind his back, Kolya is going to have to move them himself. There are only so many concessions Rodney is prepared to make, even for Kolya. “Knowing what you do when people interrupt, you’ll forgive me for not having complete and utter faith in your—” word, word, oh crap, which word, “—lovemaking self. Not that you shot me, I know. But you can see why I might not want to have a shoulder accidentally dislocated, or the circulation to my fingers reduced drastically.”

Oh wonderful. Now we really didn’t need to bring that little incident up again, did we? No. It explains a thing or two, though. And deep down, it’s entirely possible that Kolya has been somewhat hyper-aware of it for a while.

The whole situation, in fact, boils down to this: throughout the development of their relationship, Kolya has been constantly plagued by one question – exactly _why_ does Rodney McKay want anything to do with him? Because clearly, unless Kolya has somehow completely lost the ability to understand the man on any level, Rodney **does** want something to do with him. Quite a lot, in fact. Often repeatedly and in interesting places. But that is beside the point.

Rodney is well aware of what Kolya is capable of, and Kolya knows it. Now, Kolya feels no qualms in himself about what he does or how he chooses to do it, because he believes entirely in his goals, his beliefs, and his people. But he has often wondered exactly how Rodney reacts to that, deep inside, on a level he doesn’t discuss. To start off with, he’d wondered if Rodney was manifesting what the Genii call the Arracov Condition – something that Rodney would better know as Stockholm Syndrome – but it quickly became clear to Kolya that this was not the case.

Even so, what Rodney just said more or less lays out the problem on its own: the doctor does not fully trust him – and with good reason, because a lot of the evidence suggests that Kolya is not a man one can fully trust.

That, it must be said, is a very fair assessment. And it is entirely possible that one of the hidden motivations behind Kolya’s actions is an attempt to prove that Rodney really **can** trust him, despite any evidence to the contrary.

He understands why the current state of affairs may not be helping. But this is just a step along the road to what he actually has in mind. Which really ought not to sound quite so ominous, even in his head.

There are a lot of potential replies to what Rodney has said – and several of them would be really very unhelpful. So after a pause which is far briefer than the preceding overthought might imply, Kolya says, “They are an entirely different case. I will not hurt _you_.” All he can do is keep saying it... though it is very likely that there’s another reason why he’s so eager to repeatedly make this point.

Slowly – but still firmly – he pulls Rodney’s hands behind his back, until the other man’s wrists are crossed – though not enough to actually be uncomfortable. And holds him like that, pausing before he makes his next move.

Rodney lets Kolya move his hands without further resistance. It’s a point conceded, simply. So there’s no real point in fighting over that... although this inevitably begs the question: what **is** there a point in fighting over? What is, and what is not acceptable? The question hasn’t really cropped up quite so obviously up until now. But now it has, it doesn’t really want to go away.

Trust him, Kolya keeps asking. And Rodney does, on one level, or he’d never, ever have let him come here to Atlantis again. Risking his own safety is one thing, but that of the whole damn city, in these specific circumstances, is something again entirely.

I won’t hurt you. Well. That’s all well and good saying it, but as Rodney can’t remember a single person who hasn’t – in one sense or another – at some time... And Kolya has hurt him – not physically (although, he has done that, too). But in other ways. And more than the physical element, which Kolya probably can gauge, it’s the other types of harm he’s worried about. Kolya can promise all he likes – Rodney’s seen too many people hurting and being hurt, accidentally or purposefully, to ever, ever think a person is capable of never hurting someone, no matter how much they don’t want to.

Rodney turns his head to look forwards again, attempting to regulate his breathing to slow, deep breaths. His heart feels like it’s not very happy at all, and to have it pounding when in such a still state is disturbing. His palms are hot, his thighs aching, his shoulders tense. Fighting a sudden wave of unasked-for panic, he closes his eyes and breathes, trying to calm himself down.

“I know you don’t want to,” Rodney says, eventually, head dropping. “Well. I know you want to as well. I’d be very naive if I didn’t realise that. I know... you’ll try not to. And that you’ll do what you think is best.” Which could be entirely, entirely wrong. Really wrong. Really bad, too. “I’m just... I like to be the one doing the deciding, because people are usually less intelligent than me, and if I let other people be responsible, things go wrong.” Which isn’t really directed at Kolya. More, everybody else Rodney has ever known. It’s easier to take responsibility, then the blame is all yours. And you’ll know that you aren’t suffering needlessly from other people deciding and deciding badly. It’s much more pervasive.

Rodney’s breath whistles just a little through his nose, his fingers curling in and out of his palms as he thinks. “I don’t want you to think it’s just you. It isn’t. It’s... me.” He shuffles uncomfortably, trying to keep pins and needles settling in his legs from lack of movement. “I can... try. But I might not be very good at this.” Quite why he’s apologising he’s not entirely sure. Well. Apart from the part where he feels guilty that he can’t trust Kolya, violent tendencies or no. If this is serious, he should trust him, on one level. And that’s the crux. “Sorry. I’m making this difficult, aren’t I?”

What a thing to say. Is that true? Does Kolya, on some level, want to hurt Rodney? Hurt everyone? _Anyone?_ It’s more than likely, all things considered, which is a thought even he does not want to engage with.

But there’s a difference between the urges deep in your being, and the things you consciously do. There is, and _consciously_ , Kolya believes what he’s saying. What he’s said.

This thought – and rather a lot of others – roll around in his head whilst he takes the next step along... whatever road they have ended up on. As much as one _can_ be on a road whilst, in fact, sitting in a spaceship in mid-air.

Holding Rodney’s wrists together with one hand – something he, unsurprisingly, knows precisely how to do with ease – Kolya reaches into his own pocket, drawing out a long strip of fabric. This is something he always, always carries – and oh, there is quite a story behind the reason. Currently, only two people have been told it, and as of now, one of those men is dead, and the other is exceptionally unhappy.

Perhaps thankfully, this is beside the point. Working quickly, Kolya ties Rodney’s wrists together, taking care to do so in such a way that the doctor will not lose circulation in his fingers for a while. With this done, Kolya at last has his own hands free again, choosing to run his palms over Rodney’s back and across his shoulders, leaning to kiss the base of his neck once more.

He is rather too good at being something of a teasing bastard.

Only then does he reply, his tone still as low and level as ever. “What I want is to show you that you don’t need control all the time... that there is something... amazing about having no choice but to let go.”

At which point, possibly a little unwisely, he decides to add one other thing. “If you don’t want this to be difficult, don’t make it. Accept it. But if you do...” Kolya rather deliberately lets that line trail off.

The inside of the puddlejumper remains a constant temperature, which is fortunate in that Rodney isn’t freezing, but he is slightly cold in some places, and as such it’s rather difficult to relax entirely. That and the kisses, of course. Which tend to make him jump in entirely different ways.

The silence is different and not something Rodney is used to. It does, however, give him some chance to think. Even though his mind keeps baulking and the situation is difficult to accept, let alone consider. His hands are tied, which strangely makes it easier. Not having a choice about his hands is easier to tolerate than being told to do things with them. Whatever that says about himself, Rodney isn’t entirely sure he wants to know.

Eventually he nods. He knows he isn’t taking this on board too well – that his mind clearly isn’t very good at doing whatever it is Kolya wants it to be doing – but he can try. And if he really doesn’t like it – well. He could say so. And likely would.

“Okay,” he says, grudgingly – and finally – agreeing. In theory. For now. “But... kiss me first? I... want you to kiss me. Then... then I promise I’ll try and do whatever it is you want me to.”

It is an undeniable fact that Kolya is extremely in favour of kissing Rodney – given not only that he does it a lot, but also that this whole... remarkable chain of events really got started when he finally decided to do so for the first time.

On the other hand, the whole _point_ of being out of control is just that. Being out of control. And currently, Kolya has something else in mind.

“I will kiss you when I am ready,” he replies, firmly.

And now, he moves as close to Rodney as he can reasonably get, pressed up behind him. Head resting beside the other man’s – so that any further speaking will be right in his ear – Kolya reaches one hand around, wrapping it across Rodney’s chest to his further shoulder.

It’s his right hand – and the observant will have noticed that Acastus Kolya is left-handed. This alone could well indicate that he not only knows what he’s doing, but is about to do it.

He is. This last pause might be another tension-heightening tactic, or it might, in fact, be a flickering second of final consideration. Either way, it passes. And Kolya, expression resolute despite Rodney not being able to see, lets his left hand drift to his own side – to hip-height, in fact.

Holster-height.

There is a long, slow, shockingly well-timed _chink_ – one born of far, far too much practice over far, far too many years. And then, without pausing any longer, Kolya wraps his left arm around the other man’s shoulder too, laying the blade of his newly-drawn knife inches away from Rodney’s neck.

That isn’t fair. Isn’t fair at all. Rodney’s waited all this time for him, waited even though it’s driven him crazy and he’s spent more nights in the lab not-sleeping since he got back from Geneva than he ever did before he got captured on that goddamn planet. He wants kissing. Kissing lots and lots. He wants all sorts of other things, too, most of which are made easier by wearing substantially less clothing than they are now. Even if clothed sex is cool too, in a kinky way all of its own. But still. He’s been wanting Kolya, wanting to wrap around him, pressed in close, nose to nose and kissing, more than he’s wanted anything else in a very, very long time. Possibly the worst thing since wanting his first computer of his own. And **then** he had simply made one himself.

So. If he makes a frustrated noise of need, it isn’t really a surprise. And if he tugs on the fabric around his wrists to see how tightly he’s bound, that isn’t a surprise either. If he were at all in a position where slamming Kolya into the closest wall or floor and getting his kiss anyway would be a viable option, he would most certainly be doing that right now. Except he can’t. So he grouses.

And then. There’s that. And knowing the man carries a blade at almost all times (not in the shower, of course, because it would get rusty) and knowing that he keeps one under his pillow and knowing that he knows how to use one to hack a small reptilian creature apart for the purpose of eating it isn’t the same as suddenly having one turned on you. Nothing at all like. And yes. Rodney’s fully aware of why he isn’t happy. And yes, he’s fully aware of the irony of this situation and maybe, even, on one level, he’s been waiting for it since the first time they did anything other than bicker or, finally, kiss.

It’s possible he’s been trying to deny this knowledge.

_Don’t kill me, don’t kill me, please god don’t kill me, don’t ask anything, don’t want anything, don’t prove yet again that I’m a selfish, selfish, cowardly person after all..._

Rodney swallows. He does not, however, object aloud. He doesn’t particularly like it, true, but it’s... it’s Kolya doing this. And Kolya clearly wants to. And Kolya has no reason to be demanding answers from him he doesn’t want to give, this time. He could do that much more effectively without the knife. Although, maybe he’d prefer to do it this way than to just plain ask him anyway. Maybe Kolya’s liking of blades goes somewhat too far. Maybe he’ll suddenly realise that Rodney is really rather annoying and grating and demanding and think of a better way to handle him. Maybe.

Under Kolya’s arm, Rodney’s heart is doing a convincing quick-step dance. But he doesn’t fight. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t do anything other than... wait. Think. Try to think. Breathe. God. If only Kolya would talk to him, would tell him what he’s thinking and feeling. What he’s planning and what he wants. It would be much easier, then, but Rodney’s fairly confident Kolya wouldn’t tell him anyway, right now.

So. He shivers. And fights the sea of words trying to escape his lips and make a bid for freedom. For now.

 **This** – or something very much like it – is what Kolya has been thinking about for far too long. In fact, though he’d never admit it, he might even have been thinking about it for longer than he and Rodney have been involved. Memories of Dagan swim suddenly to mind; mental images flickering behind his eyes, of book-strewn tables and tall, shimmering candles.

Oh yes. So many other ways that could have played out.

For a moment, he doesn’t move or speak, staying exactly as he is so that he can listen to Rodney breathe; so that he can hear all the unspoken words and sparks of emotions that Kolya cannot help but love looking for. He really, really likes doing that – simply listening to the rhythm, or arrhythm; reading it, perceiving it... getting lost in it.

But the pause is also, as ever, deliberate, silently offering Rodney the chance to accustom to a state of affairs that he clearly – and understandably – finds alarming. After that moment passes, Kolya slowly begins to speak.

“Try to relax,” he says, speaking softly against Rodney’s ear. “I know it’s difficult, but try. Let the tension out of your shoulders, let yourself become more aware of your own breathing, your own sensations. Lose yourself in me. In _us_.”

Towards the end of this statement, Kolya slowly begins to run the blade across Rodney’s chest, the pressure carefully applied so as not to cut him. He keeps his other arm where it is, holding Rodney still, but his attention is entirely on what he’s doing.

Every now and then, the blade catches the dim lighting in the puddlejumper, glittering as it does so... and there really are very few things more wonderful than that. Ironically, Rodney McKay is one of them.

All in all, this explains a lot of the good commander’s current mindset.

As Kolya is pressed against him from behind, Rodney does have one option. His hands, trapped between them. True, there isn’t much he can do, but it’s more than nothing, and he tries to grab at Kolya’s shirt awkwardly with his fingers, tries to... do something to connect. To express. To touch Kolya back.

Rodney’s features twitch unconsciously as Kolya speaks. His breath is noisy and inelegant, but he nods his head gently and tries to do as he’s told. He knows he should be doing this, already. Instinct or some lost source, he doesn’t know. But he’s been trying. All right, he’s been thinking he should be trying, and struggling because he’s been fighting it all the way. But he’s agreed. He’s agreed to this, and Kolya isn’t going to hurt him, and Kolya wants this to happen, and maybe he does too, somewhere – because he knew this would come, and he didn’t refuse it outright. It’s been a tacit knowledge, all this time. Maybe he’s even been looking for it – but that’s possibly looking too far.

His head tilts back a little, resting just slightly against Kolya’s shoulder. It bares his throat, and he knows it, but he said he wouldn’t hurt him and Rodney hasn’t done or said anything for Kolya, not really. Not yet. His eyes are closed, his face beginning to melt hard, tense panic into something different. Still conflicted, but less so. The first time the blade moves he tenses again, but doesn’t squirm at all. His brow creases in concentration, then he counts to ten and lets go of the first wave of tension, breathing it audibly out.

“I... wondered when... when you’d do this,” Rodney admits, not an accusation, just an admission. “I don’t know why, but I think I knew you wanted to. And... I thought I was stopping you.” Eyes still closed. He’s brave, but not that brave. And he doesn’t want his eyes seen right now.

Oh, now, this is more than good. This is utterly incredible, to the point where Kolya can’t actually see why he didn’t try it earlier. There are reasons, of course, but right now, he’s so caught up in it that they seem almost hollow.

The hyper-awareness is back, too – but this time, it’s physical, not mental. This time, it means he’s amazingly conscious of everything: the warmth of Rodney’s skin beneath his arm, the sudden movement as Rodney grasps at his shirt, the lightest tremor resulting from each breath.

“You weren’t stopping me,” Kolya replies. “I was merely... waiting for the right opportunity.”

Which is entirely true. Though considering that he almost suggested it during that first, very interesting night in his room, back on Geneva, there may be more to the whole situation than he’s admitting. There usually is.

“And you were right,” he goes on, voice so low and steady that one might almost call it hypnotic. “I did want to. I wanted to share this with you, to watch you experience it, to touch you in a way that so many people will never know. But you will, my Rodney...”

As he speaks, Kolya traces the blade across Rodney’s chest again, before letting it slip higher, running it over his neck, the contact gentle, savoured, _possessive_.

It is not supposed to feel good. Not at all. It’s supposed to be... Rodney feels, on some level, that this is a betrayal. A betrayal of those who suffered, the first time they were unfortunate to meet. Because it was. Unfortunate. Not Kolya’s fault, any more than it was his. But the blame game doesn’t help, not really. The two men guarding the gate, dead. And then... all of the Genii, dead too. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, because on one level this is because of them, and it’s a selfish pleasure. Silently, not entirely knowing why, Rodney apologises to them. Maybe that’s why his eyes are slightly wet, even though they’re still closed. Although considering how... everything is suddenly deeply resonant, even the way his short fingernails make a scratching noise on the fabric of Kolya’s shirt, even the way he has to curl and uncurl his toes to fight oncoming numbness, even... even the low, quiet engine-sound of the puddlejumper itself, merging with the noise of Kolya’s breath... 

Concentration and intense experience can lead to this kind of transcendent feeling. This... slightly different world, where everything seems part of everything else, and all just a thick, colourful patina over something much bigger, much deeper. Rodney doesn’t really subscribe to the mumbo jumbo world of mysticism. He’s much too cynical. It’s probably why he’s never been in this kind of altered state before. That and drugs and he never got on too well. And the girlfriend with the incense sticks was just a plain whackjob anyway.

He swallows again, breathing finally starting to slip into a rhythm, in synch with Kolya’s. It’s unconscious. Most of this is, now, though the line between consciousness and unconsciousness is beginning to blur around the edges...

Rodney leans into the knife, just a little. It’s too... too tantalisingly scant, the blade, even though he knows that’s what makes it good. It’s... it needs to keep moving, he knows, moving because that slight scrape is so close to so many things he doesn’t really want, although the threat of them is... really should not be enjoying this...

“Yes,” Rodney says, even though he isn’t sure what he’s saying it about. “Acastus, I’m sorry... I should have trusted you, I didn’t mean not to...” It’s. Just. Hard... “I... held back and I shouldn’t because you didn’t and I never told you, because... because... I wanted to...” His voice isn’t entirely here. It’s possible his mind isn’t entirely here. Or, it is. Just not in the conventional sense. But it is. More so than usual. Because this kind of being-here would just... make normal, everyday living impossible. And still. He chokes on the words, because it’s hard. Even now. Especially now. When he’s listening. When it... means more. And doesn’t. Because he means it even not just in moments like this. Hard... any time, to say it. His jaw clenches, even as the rest of him alternates between thrumming tension and relaxed complaisance.

“Shhhh,” Kolya whispers, almost shivering at the raw honesty behind Rodney’s words, well aware of what his mind must currently be doing. “It’s all right. You offered me more trust than I expected. More than anyone else had for a long time.”

The slightest smile crosses his face, as he feels Rodney lean into the blade – a sign, at last, that the other man is really allowing himself to become involved in this, lost in it. And Kolya, well, he has been lost in it from the start, but he’s suddenly thinking about it again, sensing the power of the moment, the power he’s got – the power Rodney has let him have.

Kolya gets to be powerful a lot – that, after all, is his job. But that is not like this, not really. Enforced power and accepted power are two very different, though equally interesting things, and as one blends into the other, Kolya can feel both, flaring almost palpably in his blood.

Still working slowly, he lifts the tip of the knife, moving to lightly caress Rodney’s cheek with the blade, watching the cold silver flicker seductively.

Rodney wets his lips, eyes moving under his closed lids, lashes fluttering just a little. “It isn’t,” he insists, although his voice is quiet. “It hasn’t been fair. I want it to be.” And there. That is what he needed to say, right now. Even if he hasn’t been clear, he’s said what he’s been shy of saying. Some. The rest will follow, when the time is right. Not just now. Later. He’s been waiting, he always has, for the right time. It comes. Eventually.

It’s too hard to think of anything other than the here and now, though, and getting harder. So much sensory overload, so much of... _them_ both of them, inside and out. It’s hard to remember why he shouldn’t like this, because current evidence all stands directly in favour of it. He can’t direct it, though, the blade with its coursing patterns. He wants to, but he can’t. So he lets Kolya do it, just surging in the same direction once he knows where he’s going. It’s almost like arousal, except it’s different, somehow. The feeling is in places it normally isn’t: and he knows it won’t move unless Kolya wants it to. He bites his lip, holding back a whimper.

He isn’t going to beg. Not yet. He’s not even sure it would help. Not really. Not unless Acastus wants it to.

“Fair?” Kolya repeats. “How do you want things to be different?”

He really shouldn’t be allowed to ask questions whilst doing something like this, but he has enough control over his voice that it doesn’t sound overly... well. Interrogative.

Throughout all this, he doesn’t stop moving the blade; albeit slowly, now running it down Rodney’s neck again, the tip curving around his collarbone and across his chest, lower this time. It’s a very involving activity, for Kolya, at least; something that he can keep doing for a while, exploring alternative ways to play the knife over the different contours of Rodney’s upper body, and waiting for the response different motions elicit.

No words. Really no words for how incredible this is.

Rodney opens his eyes now, just a little, not looking up. He swallows, still tensing and relaxing and almost-jumping when the knife catches a particularly sensitive and ticklish spot. “You were open with me. I... haven’t been with you. I haven’t lied, nothing like that. I’ve just... not said as much as you have.” And then he opens his eyes properly, a slightly grim smile on his lips. “Ironic, really.”

Possibly openly confessing to not being open in this kind of situation is a bad idea, on one level. But. It needs saying. “I want to stop. Stop not-saying things because I’m worried.”

Rodney really does not know how to speak in anything approaching a tactful or sensitive manner. He probably never will.

Kolya has been aware of that particular irony for some time now, aware that it is perhaps rather telling – as, of course, is his decision never to push the matter. It’s another one of those things that seems to be such a simple point, until you delve deeper, and find all the hidden layers of meaning.

He’s still working with the knife, starting to follow certain patterns, but never in the same order, never enough to be actually predictable. And he takes his time with that, finally speaking as he moves to trace the blade over the curve of Rodney’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to worry. If you want to say something... say it. You know I will listen. And you know I want you to.”

Rodney nods. He does know Kolya wants him to. Of course he knows. He always has. “I... will,” he says, at last, before biting down on his bottom lip. His chest and cheeks are patched with high colour, which is what happens when you do things like this for too long, of course.

He turns his head, so the side of his face just brushes Kolya’s. Fortunate, in a way, that they’re practically the same height. Otherwise, things might get tricky. Waiting is one thing. Waiting indefinitely is maddening. Rodney is not especially patient, and he’s feeling the bit between his teeth now.

It’s entirely possible that Kolya is more than aware of this. Provoking it, one might say, trying to see just how close to the edge he can push Rodney; how long it will be before the doctor’s reaction changes. He increases the pressure on the knife just a little, enough to be slightly more alarming.

But after a moment of that, Kolya lifts the blade again, using the tip to tilt Rodney’s head and then resting the edge against the further side of his neck, turning to lightly kiss the closer side.

Once Rodney has decided that knives are fine, knives are fine. It’s a simple process really, like suddenly realising that you can actually have conversations with other people. Or, that despite what everyone thinks, hospital food actually tastes nice. Or, that you happen to be something other than exclusively heterosexual. So the sudden draw of breath when the knife presses down elicits a moan louder than he was expecting, and a pressing down of eyelids.

This has to be really bad on his back. No doubt he’ll be suffering in the morning. And if Carson does ask him why, he’s going to find himself getting answers he didn’t want to get.

Rodney lets Kolya turn his head, mainly because remembering how to make decisions is something at a distance, and because he’s still remembering that Kolya could get other ideas, and this could wind up taking hours, and driving him completely insane. Which would not be good. Elizabeth would probably disapprove of that. Even so... he really wants to kiss him, and he slowly turns his head again, trying to meet Kolya’s face. Because.

Not. Going to beg. Not.

Now it’s **obvious** that Kolya knows what Rodney wants him to do, because the good commander is quite deliberately avoiding it. This is, naturally, not because he _doesn’t_ want to kiss the man, but because he wants to see just how desperate Rodney is.

So instead, he pulls back, kissing oh-so-lightly along the curve of his shoulder – though still keeping the knife close. Of course.

And waiting. Because he’s going to get a response soon. He is.

Rodney doesn’t even try to keep the disappointed noise from escaping. It’s not fair, to be so close and still not close enough. He tries to squirm away from Kolya’s mouth, craning to look at him. “Acastus. _Please_. Haven’t I waited enough?” And not just here, either.

It’s not that he wants to be difficult – well, not mostly. It’s that being so still is driving him out of his mind, and he’s so aware of how pent and tense and coiled he is right now. His fingers work, trying to toy with the end of the fabric strip around his wrists. He’s tried being patient, and for Rodney, he has been. But Kolya really **is** going to see what ‘difficult’ means, if he doesn’t give soon.

Helpfully, it looks like that was the response Kolya wanted – because all of a sudden, he lifts the hand he’s been holding Rodney’s shoulder with, and uses it to tilt his head back sharply.

And then? Kisses him. Really, fully, kisses him on the mouth; the kind of kiss that means a great deal, that speaks volumes despite being wordless.

Plus, the odd angle? Interesting.

Okay, so, fine. Apparently asking works, but only when it happens to be the right moment. Because he’s supposed to somehow know that. Right.

Not that Rodney’s thinking too much about it right now. He’s not thinking about much but Kolya’s mouth, lips and tongue. The faint smell of him, the press of heat against his back, the sudden... confusing rush of emotion that’s almost enough to choke him, but not quite... God, it’s been so long, he’d almost convinced himself it wasn’t really real, this... this. Kissing thing. Which he may be a tad fixated on.

He can’t really do much else, at the moment, constrained as he is. But he wants to, so he clumsily tries to rub his foot against Kolya’s leg, the only thing he has left to move right now. And oh god but he’d needed this... a fact that he’s not ashamed to make known at all.

Oh now, this is...

Kolya tries to complete that mental sentence, and finds it somewhat more challenging than it ought to be. But there really are no words good enough to explain how wonderful this is, the sheer intensity of being wrapped around Rodney McKay – with a knife in one hand and his tongue pleasingly deep in the doctor’s mouth.

They have to break for air eventually, though Kolya ensures that the pause is only fleeting before he leans in again to resume the kiss – and now, at the same time, he lightly caresses Rodney’s cheek with the ever-present blade.

Because things ought to stay interesting.

When you box someone in, they tend to react. Eventually. Which is why, as they’re kissing, the devil in Rodney makes him bite just a little on Kolya’s tongue. Not hard enough to damage, not even really hard enough to hurt. Just a nip, because he can. And because he wants to.

It’s really rather uncomfortable, although that might be the point. And as long as that knife doesn’t go _anywhere_ near his eyes – which Rodney has an understandable attachment to – it’s fine just where it is. Really. Although it could do with just a little bit more...

This provokes a low, rather happy sound deep in Kolya’s throat. It would probably provoke a verbal reaction if speech was possible right now – but it isn’t, and the commander really is not in any hurry to break apart again.

So he savours the moment, instead; the complex mental medley of thoughts and emotions – all of which reduce down somewhat to one helpfully brief synopsis:

_Yes. Oh yes._

Eventually – eventually – Kolya does pull back, though not far. Meeting Rodney’s eyes at last (as much as is possible in their current position,) he says, quietly, “Good?”

From the expression on Rodney’s face – all flushed cheeks, red lips and dark eyes – it would be hard to believe it was anything but good. Not just good. Really, really, really good. His smile is lopsided, and ever so slightly predatory... with... something else, just underneath. Honesty, again. Or, more technically, deep, chest-aching affection. And rebellion. A little.

“More?” Rodney asks, his voice low and rough, and not even really intentionally so. Although the attempted winsome look is entirely intentional, and just a little ridiculous.

Kolya smiles, and though the expression is far from being one of his smirks, it is not without a certain... devious edge. He brushes the knife across Rodney’s neck once more.

“But of course,” he replies, levelly. “Any requests?”

“More skin would be nice,” Rodney says, now attempting to look innocent. He’s not that good at it. “Mine... yours... both...” His eyes almost-close as the knife moves, and it’s almost worrying how... easy it is now. Well, aspects of it. “I want to feel... more of you.” Which can never sound anything other than horrendously dirty.

Not a problem. At all. Kolya gives the faintest tip of the head in reply, and slowly lets go of Rodney, withdrawing his arms. Seconds later, there’s a light _ching-tap_ , as he lays the knife on the floor for a moment, wanting both hands free to undo his jacket, to tug the garment off and toss it aside.

And then his shirt, too. The extra layer was... unconsciously deliberate. In his mind, Atlantis will always be cold, somehow.

That done, he leans in again, not yet picking up the knife; allowing him, instead, to wrap his arms around Rodney once more, to run fingers over the same patterns the blade had followed.

Still too slow, but Rodney definitely approves. He arches his back to press against Kolya’s chest, wanting to carve the sense-memory in deep. With his head tilted as much as he can, comfortably, he tries to nip playfully at Kolya’s jaw. “Can we move from knees at some point? You might train and all that, but I’m still a fragile scientist, and I’m never going to be able to walk at this rate...”

Well, if you can push once, why not twice? Besides, he is demanding by nature.

That’s a fair point. There are certain kinds of pain that Kolya is very good at not noticing – and the kind of ache one gets from staying in an awkward position for too long is among them. And it’s only now, as Rodney makes that remark, that Kolya becomes aware of it.

“All right,” he replies; then slowly, slowly runs his hands along Rodney’s arms, untying his wrists at last, before letting go to allow the other man to move.

Unsurprisingly, the easiest thing for Rodney to do in this situation is rather gracelessly fall half-forwards, half to the side, so he’s propping himself up on one arm, trying to stretch out his legs, before rubbing a little feeling back into his hands. It’s weird, being able to move again, after that. Belatedly, he says “Thanks.”

The lingering... whatever it is that Kolya’s been doing stops Rodney from lifting his head too much, although he does a little – to look at Kolya, his face, eyes, mouth... and... well. All the other parts too. Which is fine. Because he’s perfectly within his rights to. And he hasn’t been able to look at him for some time now.

His fingers busily wander around his palms. “...what now?” he asks, for once actually asking from a desire to know, overall. “I mean, is there something I should be doing, or... can we... make it up?” Which is a little strange a question, he realises, but he doesn’t exactly have the terminology.

Oddly, Kolya doesn’t move yet, choosing to stay where he is and watch Rodney, a rather fond smile on his face. “Oh, we can make it up,” he replies, and if he thinks that question was strange, he doesn’t let on. “All of this is... creative improvisation.”

Very _overthought_ creative improvisation. Which possibly doesn’t entirely count as ‘improvisation.’

Rodney takes the brief break as a very, very welcome chance to stretch, then, doing so in the manner of someone who went to the damn gym classes, and only went to the damn gym classes because he had to. And then he sprawls back, one knee drawn, leaning on both his elbows and watching Kolya.

Very complicated. All of this.

“You know, I did wonder if we’d ever make it to the mainland or not,” he says, grinning. Not make it to the mainland period, just... in time. But this is a good reason not to wait. Plus, bugs.

“We will make it,” Kolya replies, lightly. “Provided no one is expecting us at a certain time—” which he very much doubts “—there will be no problem.”

Almost idly, he picks up his knife at last, now shifting position so as to lie beside Rodney – head propped up on his arm, completely unperturbed by being sprawled on the floor. Not that this fact is likely to come as a surprise, of course.

“No one is expecting us,” Rodney tells him. Why should anyone? None of the Athosians really knows him, and he doesn’t really feel the need to go out making friends with every Amish person they associate with. And he certainly wouldn’t arrange to meet anyone tonight... not unless... okay, no, they don’t have that...

When Kolya shifts, Rodney is glad. He didn’t particularly want to move himself, and now he can slide his fingertips over Kolya’s side, down to his hip, where they splay out, then run back together, and up a little way. “Just you and me and anything we decide we like the thought of.” Which, considering the whole celibacy thing for the past few weeks, is a lot of possibilities.

“I like the thought of a great many things,” Kolya replies, with a distinctly devious glint in his eyes. And he does. Several come to mind, all at once, though he says nothing else yet, choosing instead to trace idly along Rodney’s shoulder again. With his knife. Naturally.

The pause is deliberate and measured, too – this time, he’s waiting to see if Rodney plans to request, suggest, or initiate something. If not, the commander has one or two specific ideas he could work with.

Rodney moves his face closer, because he really, really does have a fixation. A good fixation. He almost closes his eyes as he kisses Kolya’s lips once, almost chastely. And his voice, intentionally or no, is downright filthy when he replies.

“Want to air them, maybe? So we can... think about how best to... spend our time?”

Two fingers, three, drumming down to his hip again, arching over his thigh, working their way slowly up between Kolya’s legs. “You haven’t told me all your weird little kinks and fantasies yet. And you know sharing is good... and much more fun.”

Rodney McKay is a very dirty-minded pervert. But anyone who has been in his company for long will probably realise this, whether they want to or not. Often in much more explicit detail than is necessary. “I even got books.” And **that** requisition had been fun to make. Although he did ask for it not to be publicly broadcast.

Many people find it somewhat difficult to associate having kinks and fantasies with a man like Acastus Kolya, simply because he’s so utterly unreadable – and because he’s so dedicated to his work that it’s hard to imagine him spending time dreaming up interesting, nigh-on filthy-minded ways to make sex more interesting.

These people, alas, cannot see the wood for the trees.

The commander was extremely single for an alarmingly long time – which gave him far too many opportunities to think, plot, re-think, and then go beat someone up, because being single is extraordinarily painful if one has an active mind.

Ironically, since getting together with Rodney McKay, he’s done a number of the things on that mental list, without ever admitting that such a thing might, in fact, exist. The night in the tava, for one, was something he had wanted to do for a very, **very** long time indeed, but in the past, everyone he’d wanted to do it _with_ had been too reluctant or too heterosexual.

He is hindered somewhat in sharing these thoughts, even now, by not being the galaxy’s most sparkling conversationalist – or, indeed, anything close. But he is getting better at it. Really.

Smiling slightly, Kolya leans in closer, resting his head on the side of Rodney’s, and speaking into his ear again, nipping gently at his neck in between sentences. “You know the type of things I like. Power. Control. Unusual locations. The kiss of a cold, well-kept blade. And you, of course. The way you breathe when you’re just a little bit frightened... the way your expression flickers when you’re thinking fast... that look you get in your eyes just before you come...”

And, it would seem, talking dirty. It’s amazing, the things that will actually get a proper paragraph out of the commander these days.

Rodney had enough weird and interesting ideas when he was heterosexual – well, a practising heterosexual. He supposes that he could still be considered a heterosexual – or... okay, the terminology is confusing. But all the ones that involved non-male parts are now kind of moot. And instead, there are all sorts of new ones which involve lots of male parts. But a few more interests never hurt anybody.

There’s a low, almost-growl rumble in response to Kolya’s contribution. Mainly because it deals with three of the things Rodney likes best in the world: sex, Kolya and yours truly. No food or technology, alas, but Kolya’s going to be around for a while, and Rodney doesn’t sleep much anyway, so those things can be thoroughly dealt with later. Plus, he didn’t bring any whipped cream or chocolate spread. He hasn’t been able to acquire those yet.

“Well, we’re in an Ancient spacecraft flying over the ocean to a strange landmass neither of us knows well... it would be hard to come up with more unusual locations than that, although I have been working out when certain places in the city are unpopulated...” These things he did not put in Kolya’s guide, even though he did think about it. Instead, he’s kept his own record, which could always be... consulted. At leisure.

He grabs Kolya’s earlobe in his teeth, pinching a little. “Do you want me to put up a fight, or shall I fuck you through the floor anyway?”

Which. Is... something Rodney didn’t think he’d ever say. It makes his cheeks even hotter, makes him feel even goofier. Hopefully Kolya won’t laugh. Hopefully Kolya will, in fact, be encouraged. One way or another. Encouraged... well. Provoked. If you want to split hairs.

The Genii do not have anything remotely resembling a lottery, but nevertheless, Kolya looks rather like he just won it. He pulls back enough to look Rodney in the eye, staying so close that they’re practically nose-to-nose, expression full of something that one could go so far as to call ‘delight.’

Life is often full of alluring choices... though few are as good as this.

Watch closely. In five seconds, the grip on his knife will tighten. In ten, he’ll speak. In fifteen... well. That’s where things get interesting again.

A pause. A smirk. A barely perceptible shift in balance. “Put up a fight,” he says.

And pounces. Horizontally.

Possibly rolling around in the somewhat limited space the back of a puddlejumper provided with one person armed, one person terminally ungraceful and one person terminally Kolya is a really, really bad idea.

This, however, does not stop things. If no one did things they shouldn’t, life would be very, very boring indeed.

Rodney does have one thing in his favour: he was prepared for this slightly before Kolya was, because he more or less asked for it. Which means he’s been keeping a careful watch of Kolya’s knife-hand. The hand that happens, entertainingly enough, to be the one closest to the one **he** prefers, when they happen to be in this kind of position. So he goes for Kolya’s wrist with his right hand, attempting to stop it, and to keep it out to the side. At the same time, of course, as dragging his feet closer to him so his knees are up – the better to stop being flattened (although his knees will never forgive him) – and the better to roll them both with.

It’s possible Rodney has been thinking about this kind of... tussle... for some time now, in order to be – well – prepared. “Why did I know you’d say that?” he asks, as he tries to move to the best possible position, all things considered.

The physicality is good – very good, especially considering they’ve been particularly still for a while now. Also, as Kolya lunges for Rodney and they half-roll, he gets a sudden flash of sense memory; understandable, given the circumstances.

Tava. Night. Cool. Oh yes. Very vivid sense memory, if somewhat brief.

He tries to wrench his left hand out of Rodney’s grip, deliberately using less force than he would if this was a real fight, for the simple reason that in a real fight, he wouldn’t be so worried about accidentally stabbing his opponent in the process. Indeed, in a real fight, he would likely have hit his opponent by now, as that would be a good way to distract them long enough to gain the advantage.

Rodney McKay, naturally, requires alternative methods of distraction.

Kolya grabs hold of Rodney’s currently free hand, slamming it firmly into the floor. “Because you asked,” he replies, expression nigh-on devilish. “You would not have done so unless you expected – wanted – such a response. It is more than likely that you have been around me too long...”

“What happens to _you_ , if you’re around _me_ too much?” Rodney asks, doing his damned best to keep hold of Kolya’s left hand. Of course this kind of thing leaves all sorts of fingernail-shaped traces, which are going to call for long sleeves in public for a while.

And if Rodney happens to have got a knee on either side of Kolya during the... altercation so far... things like that happen. Especially if you were trying to make them happen. And if he hooks one foot around the back of Kolya’s heel and drags it out to the side so Kolya’s legs splay... well.

Although kissing him firmly again – whilst a highly effective distractory tool in many senses – would stop even the blind and deaf from realising this isn’t really a fight per se. “You should see the look on your face when you’re sparring, or playing with your... weapons,” Rodney says, a little hoarsely. “Really. As host, I had to oblige.” And play coy, apparently.

Kolya is not going to let himself be distracted by things like kissing. He isn’t. Though he appears to be dedicating more than just a second to said activity – which, yes, is not a traditional combat tactic.

This might, however, be more deliberate than it seems – because right in the middle of it, he suddenly lets go of the hand he was pinning, freeing up his own. Trying to stay balanced whilst Rodney has one of his legs held like _that_ , Kolya manages to get his other knee on the ground – and simultaneously, he lets his now-unoccupied hand move quickly to a very specific region of Rodney’s torso.

When one spends most of one’s life either duelling or instructing others how to do so, one tends to learn rather a lot about pressure points. And this is to say nothing of the good commander’s _other_ areas of expertise – which, of course, also help.

Kolya’s fingers find the point they are looking for, and, as one would expect, apply pressure. All he needs is a few seconds of distraction to get his knife-arm free...

Rodney yells. Rodney yells, and Rodney kicks, and Rodney lets go of Kolya’s hand. And if he managed to hurt Kolya in the kicking, it’s entirely Kolya’s fault for playing dirty. As is Rodney suddenly biting him rather hard on the neck, because that **hurt** , damnit.

Seriously. He’s only two evolutionary steps away from being able to kill people with his brain. And Kolya is damned lucky about that.

Rodney makes a particularly uncivilised noise of annoyance. But considering their current occupation, a lack of social manners is the least of their worries right now.

Well. Maybe that was a little underhand. But it is a rather obvious fact of life that Kolya is both underhand and somewhat prone to being deliberately provocative. And if he gets slightly hurt in return... he doesn’t seem to mind.

After all, he’s got his knife-hand free at last, which helps a great deal. He pulls back, blade now tantalisingly close to Rodney’s neck again.

And smiles. The man is nothing if not a smug bastard when he’s winning. He realises he still hasn’t answered the good doctor’s question, and decides that now would be a suitable time to do so.

“Apparently,” he says, “I initiate groundbreaking peace treaties completely against all expectation, and then go on to discover very appealing reasons to give my trainees more time off.”

“You didn’t learn the last from me,” Rodney says, even as he tilts his head back for the blade, offering his throat again. It... feels like the right thing to do. He looks from under his lashes at Kolya. “I just make my minions do my work whilst I’m... not free.”

If it were possible to look more coy and debauched than before, now would be the moment, as Rodney unselfconsciously flirts. A lot. And if Kolya is holding his knife, it means Rodney has at least one hand free. Free to drag nails down Kolya’s bare back, then grope his ass. Hard. With his fingers pushing between clad legs from behind.

It’s difficult to say which of the two is the more smug. Really. This is what happens when – accidentally – goals start to align...

Whilst what Rodney is currently doing happens to be extremely enjoyable, Kolya appears to have something else in mind – because, fairly quickly, he presses the knife a great deal closer to Rodney’s neck, just under his jaw.

“Now, now,” he says, his precise tone deliberately difficult to pin down, “none of that, yet.” Kolya tightens his grip on Rodney’s non-wandering hand, pressing it to the floor again, fingers curling to knuckles. “Other hand where I can see it.” He doesn’t specify **where** , though - which may also be entirely deliberate.

Because, after all, there may have to be some of ‘that’ soon. There’s tactical delayal, and then there’s the point at which one becomes impatient. Kolya thinks fast, because he has rather too many ideas all at once, and most... all right, that would just involve too much effort.

He files the thought for later consideration, though. There is the journey back to think about...

In the meantime, a sudden sense of urgency starts making itself known, and Kolya now slips his knee between Rodney’s, pushing _his_ legs apart, leaning to kiss him once more.

Rebellion wanders somewhere to a different part of Rodney’s brain for a minute or two, and he moans rather loudly when the knife moves. It’s possible the knife is doing bad things to his psyche, and may make eating in public difficult in the future. Added to: Amish planets, Genii holding cells, transporters, and a lot of other things. And the other things he’s planning.

When Kolya parts his legs, Rodney spreads them slightly more than he needs to, trying to press his hips upward into something – anything. And his hand? After a short period of thinking, it drags nails up Kolya’s back, then he slides it down between them, and starts to unfasten his own pants, rubbing his palm over the rather unflat front of said pants. Which makes him make an even **louder** noise.

And oh, look. Another new interest. Maybe he should start charting them to work out patterns. And maybe even design the ultimate sexual experience. Because, with good planning... it really could be done.

Some scientists never stop working.

For a moment, Kolya looks intent on taking hold of Rodney’s suddenly... occupied hand and slamming it above his head with the other. But then, perhaps not entirely unexpectedly, he decides it would be _much_ more interesting to do otherwise – and instead, to stay still, to remain as he is and watch Rodney’s eyes.

 _Really_ watch. The kind of intent, deliberate watching that only arises when the fact of being watchful is just as important – if not more so – than what one happens to be watching.

Though that is not to say Kolya is unaware of anything else, of course – far from it. And whilst he’s strangely aroused by what Rodney is doing, he has every intention of stepping in before long.

But timing is everything, of course.

Rodney smiles nervously in the face of that stare. Most of the time, people don’t faze him, but every once in a while...

Rodney turns his hand enough so that he can do the same to Kolya’s pants and groin. Because it’s only fair. A pink tip of tongue slides out in concentration, and he suppresses a small shudder. Because. Yeah. Having spent so much time enjoying the lonely company of his own manparts, it’s a little odd he’s only just realised he likes **other** manparts. Like the ones he can feel straining under cloth.

The fingers of his other hand curl, trying to cement something. His eyes dart just a little, but remain centred on Kolya’s, constantly going back to them. “Oh god,” he says, “this... is it...” Is it... what? Precisely? He’s wavering, but at the edge of what he doesn’t know. Just that it’s... so very windy... and he’s so very there. Oh yes. Right there. Rodney clearly is not used to... whatever. Because it’s suddenly so very... there again, pressing on all sides, inside and out. Not the flush of sex, although that’s still potent and thick in the air, like electric treacle, but... them. Both of them. _Him_.

Kolya’s eyes flicker at that, though he doesn’t close them, breath catching suddenly in his chest as Rodney’s hand slides over him. The contact sends a slight shiver down his back – and one that he knows is a lot more than just a physical response, more than just his body responding to a desirable stimulus. This... is in his head, as much as anywhere else, an abrupt flash of hyper-awareness again – awareness of Rodney, of that look in his eyes.

He wants to ask what it might mean – so much so that he has the relevant words on the tip of his tongue... and then, consciously, he doesn’t ask, doesn’t speak, doesn’t do anything but kiss Rodney again.

And again. Enthusiasm is a virtue.

The point of this – if it can be thought of as something like this, as something different from what’s happening now... has long gone from Rodney’s mind. Kolya’s lips almost sting when they touch his own, and he throws himself into the kiss, so it’s not even right to call it that anymore, ‘kiss’ which sounds too weak and not blood-hot wet and hungry. Eating – devouring. The pinned hand tries to move of its own accord, trying to get some purchase. His other hand moves quickly up between them and curls around Kolya’s face, thumb running along his jawbone as he tries to keep him in place. Because. Oh god yes.

With some – reluctant – effort, he manages to pull back just a little, breathless. A few gasps, to get enough air to talk. “Just... if we keep up like this... I’m not going to last,” he admits, a bit sheepishly. “I can... but I’d need...” words that are hard to think of right now, “...space. Or...” He lets that trail, fingers moving to drag gently over Kolya’s lips, fascinated.

Although Kolya doesn’t say anything in response, the reply is all in his eyes; a still, silent mental nod, before he slowly pulls back, letting go of Rodney for a moment. And that, even despite the reasoning behind it, seems so unwelcome, as if breaking the contact between them is beyond what he can cope with.

Wordlessly, unblinkingly, he lays a hand on Rodney’s side, urging him to roll onto his stomach, shifting position enough to allow for movement – though not far enough to permit much else.

There is the briefest moment of thought – to the degree Rodney’s capable of right now. Which isn’t very much. His hand slowly falls, having followed Kolya’s face as far as it could. And then he complies. Because. This is more important than just about anything ever, and not just now.

Which is a terrifying thought. But a thought there, nonetheless. He doesn’t roll over completely – as in his current state of arousal, well. He doesn’t particularly want to. But he does move most of the way, and then look back for some form of guidance.

It’s hard to be sure exactly what Kolya does with his knife in these few seconds of movement. All that is clear is one moment, it’s there, and the next, it isn’t. And for a man who is shockingly adept at keeping the presence of said weapon extremely obvious, this is either a very good thing, or a very worrying one.

Helpfully, it’s unlikely to be the latter this time.

He moves in close again, kissing across Rodney’s back, and simultaneously trailing a hand briskly down his side to push down his pants and boxers. And then, before starting to do the same to himself, Kolya leans to whisper a single-word question into the doctor’s ear.

“Lubricant?” Which is a question designed entirely to ask its location, and not anything else slightly more alarming.

Rodney nods in answer for a few moments, until he realises it was actually a question of _where_ and then he has to find his voice. “In... the box under the pilot’s seat. Under the tray.” Which was a great effort, actually.

And if Kolya’s getting up, then Rodney’s going to watch, because lying on the floor alone staring at the wall... when Kolya’s here and should be **here**? Not good. Not at all.

Kolya... moves fast. It’s the kind of ‘fast’ which is generally designed to look like haste as well as actually involving it. Thankfully, he doesn’t have any difficulty finding what he is searching for – which is good, because that kind of awkward confusion is a real mood-killer – and he’s soon back at Rodney’s side, bottle in hand.

For a moment, he kisses Rodney’s neck again, as if aware that those few seconds of separation were remarkably unwelcome, and needing some way to re-establish a sense of contact beyond mere physical presence. And those thoughts lead to other thoughts, as his hand drifts to his own pants, shifting position to work them down, boxers too, freeing his erection.

Oh, he wants this, needs this, with a desperation beyond the realm of normal understanding. His hand finds the lubricant again, knowing what to do with it without needing his mind to direct – allowing his mind to stay focused on... well. Everything else. Not that his mental processes are entirely coherent right now.

When Kolya gets back, Rodney puts his hands underneath his shoulders and rolls onto his knees. It’s still a little difficult, even now, to curl his fingers into his palms and spread his legs, rolling his hips so he can make this easier – so Kolya can drive into him deeper, harder. It feels such an odd and humbling thing, presenting himself like this. But he has to. Wants to. Needs to. Because it’s best for both of them, and because he... wants to be like this. For Kolya. Open and bared and willing.

“Please,” Rodney says, plaintive. And honest. “Oh god I’ve needed this so much. I want you inside me. I want to **feel** this... tomorrow... always... Christ, anything. Anything. Just... fuck me. Acastus. _Please_.” Which, of course, is not something he ever, ever, ever, ever expected to think, much less say. To anyone. And yet he has, and yet he’s shaking, and he’s more or less ready to agree to damn near anything Kolya could ask.

Yes. Because he’s already on all fours, skyclad and shoving his ass in the air. Really not much he would say no to after that. Well, not that Kolya would (hopefully) ask for, anyway.

That statement, with all its pleading, genuine desperation, hits Kolya during the exact moment when his hand, his cock and some rather cold lubricant are all in understandably close contact. As a result, any lingering hope of doing this slowly and teasingly go somewhat out the metaphorical window; and instead, Kolya is up against Rodney remarkably quickly. He’s still careful as he enters the other man, of course, but the movement is slightly firmer and faster than he might have planned.

And then he’s inside Rodney, pressed against his back, feeling warm skin enticingly flush against his own. There’s a moment – a sharp, nevertheless slow intake of breath, and the sudden feeling that his eyes are going to stay closed whether he wants them to or not – before Kolya even manages to consider trying to find some sort of rhythm. Staying in close, he wraps an arm around Rodney’s shoulders again – almost shivering at the new sense-memory this elicits – other arm finding the floor for support. 

It is fortunate that a) they are in a puddlejumper in the air and b) Rodney made damn sure his radio was off and c) there are no tools of espionage on board that any... creative underling could have concealed. He did this, of course, for a very good reason. And the very good reason is that he can often be very loud once genitally engaged, as it were. Rodney makes a noise somewhat between a yell and a yelp, a loud burst of verbal pleasure as Kolya thrusts into him. He rocks a little on his knees, trying not to give wholly to the movement, but to give it some resistance, some end, to stop them both just collapsing forwards, coupled as they are. Kolya’s cock is slick and hard, and even though Rodney’s homemade attempts at... keeping certain areas under muscular control help, somewhat, he’s still a little tight when Kolya pushes in. Tight enough so that it stings, and the stretch and pull is felt, but nowhere near tight enough that this hurts in anything but a good way. Which you could gather, listening to him grunt and moan with no sign of embarrassment. As often Rodney is.

The hand flung across his chest makes him shiver, and if he could trust himself not to fall, he’d be touching Kolya right back. However, this... this... now, is too rough and desperate and now for any of that, so in a brief moment of almost-lucidity, he recalls something he’d read somewhere, and weeks of practice (preparation, of course, being so important) come to play. Specifically, Rodney closes his eyes, breathes for a moment, and starts to clench and unclench around Kolya’s cock. Because, god damnit, Rodney **wants** to show Kolya what he’s capable of, now, and... see what makes him happy. Or horny. Or both.

All of which in far too much silence. “Say something?” Rodney asks, quietly. “Anything?” So very quiet, so much so he feels he’s the only thing in this ship making a noise.

Religion does not play a part in Acastus Kolya’s life – but if it did, he’d be invoking just about every god he could think of right now; most likely somewhat blasphemously and rather disjointedly. As it is, he instead makes a low, almost ragged sound in the depths of his throat – something between a growl and a moan, that edge of near-ecstasy now impossible to miss.

Rhythm becomes oddly easy to find after a moment or so, the movement deep and firm and so, so very good – and Kolya’s tightening his grip on Rodney’s shoulder without even thinking about it, breathing against his neck.

Conversation is hardly likely at a time like this... but then, Kolya doubts that’s what the doctor means. And it’s oh-so-easy for him to speak now, the words tumbling out all raw and honest. “You’re incredible,” he breathes. “You make me feel so alive, so very... real... and being apart for so many days... it cut me to the core.”

Rodney tries to do things like counter the rhythm, work in one of his own, do all those things that a good bottom is supposed to... but clearly the people who wrote those books had far too much time and not enough sex on their hands. Or maybe their hands _were_ the problem. As it is, it’s all he can do not to fall flat on his face, his body moving much better when his brain stops trying to work out formulae and just... follows this. His breath is laboured and short, so short that he’s feeling a little dizzy, but still unable to breathe properly.

In and in and in and in... and god, doesn’t Rodney wish he had a hand free now, free to grab his achingly hard erection and give it the grip it needs, instead of humping thin air whilst Kolya’s cock does things with nerves he’s very, very glad he finally met. He gives an undignified yelp when Kolya starts to hit that place _there_ suddenly, and it’s all he can do not to come all over the floor just at that, and instead he feels an electric-shock jump through him, singing, without giving any release.

There were things to say. Lots of them. Most of them claim to have always been ‘oh god yes’, ‘please’, ‘more’ and ‘whee!’ Which are all valid points in and of themselves. Instead, all Rodney can get out is a series of thoughts, not even joined together in anyplace except in his own head. “They all... think I’m crazy... but I’mmmmm not. Oh. Oh. This... is it,” he says, as if it were evidently clear to everybody and everyone who isn’t crazy exactly what ‘it’ it is. His head drops, then arches back over his shoulders, clearly fighting himself. “....reallycan’t.... ugh.... muchlonger...” McKay, Master of words. Usually. At least sometimes Canadianly polite.

By now, Kolya is fighting the need for release, desperate to prolong this as much as he possibly can. Breathing irregular, he tries somewhat unsuccessfully to formulate a response, but his mind is simply too hazy to come up with anything coherent.

Perhaps knowing what Rodney is thinking, or perhaps because he’s thinking along the same lines, Kolya lets his hand slide slowly over the other man’s chest – lower and lower until he can wrap his fingers around Rodney’s hard cock, judging where to put them and how to move them so as to cause a sudden hit of stimulation without instantly pushing Rodney over the edge.

It is extremely difficult to be teasing at this point – but that doesn’t mean Kolya isn’t going to try.

That... _that_ is evil. Much, much more evil than – okay, well not more evil than _that_ but it’s a damn close thing. Rodney’s fingers force their way flat over the floor again, and he digs blunt nails into the rather solid floor in sheer frustration. For once, Rodney actually does think this would be better outside – or at least, on a bed – because then he could dig his nails into _something_ instead of scraping them into metal alloy. At about the same time, Rodney jumps underneath him, hissing a lost expletive under his breath, which trails into a slow keening noise.

Really. **Really** damn close. And once he regains coherent thought, Rodney is very likely going to want revenge. Very likely revenge involving a cock-ring... but that thought is in the future, not now. All he can think now is _yes, yes, oh god yes please let me come, god, so fucking good... fucking. Fucking good fucking. Knees hands cock chest thighs mouth Kolya close need need need mine yours oh please..._ His mouth is running but he doesn’t even know if it’s in English or not, or even any human tongue at all, never mind what he’s saying. Yes. Yes. No one else, no. He’s sweat-slick, flushed, near-delirious from physical and emotional stress and not far from losing it – and his load – entirely. And it’s obvious to anyone with enough consciousness to tell.

This is too much, now – far, far too much. Too good, too real, too intense, and in the last seconds of near-lucidity, Kolya changes the pressure on Rodney’s cock to the extent that he doubts anyone this close to the edge could resist tumbling over it.

He certainly can’t, now, hips bucking slightly as he comes long and hard – the knuckles of his supporting hand going suddenly white under the pressure, and a string of barely-coherent, very, very happy utterances tumbling from his lips all at once. It’s still something of a mystery how anything can possibly feel _this_ good – but right now, those rolling, electric, white-hot sensations are better than anything else in the whole world; save, of course, for experiencing them whilst wrapped around Rodney McKay.

Even if, for some extremely, extremely perverse and twisted reason, Rodney wanted to hold back, he wouldn’t be able to. Not even if Kolya asked him to. Not even if Kolya demanded he didn’t. Especially not when Kolya’s hand finally gives him the pressure and tightness he needs, especially not when, more or less instantaneously, he can feel Kolya losing control of himself, feel the juddering hotwet stretch deep inside, as Kolya pushes into him one more time. With a strangled sob of hoarse joy, he’s fucking Kolya’s hand as hard as he can, as long as he can, wet and hot outside just like Kolya is inside and then it’s too much and he stops, coming to a panting halt on all fours, Kolya still all around him.

Rodney breathes, a little shell-shocked, a lot satisfied, and even more... humbled, almost. That. That was what he hadn’t known he’d wanted, lacked and needed for so many years. And now he has it, terrifying as it is, he wonders how he ever got on without it.

With some effort, Rodney turns his head to the side, trying to rub his face into Kolya’s arm affectionately, it being about the best example of motor control he’s currently capable of. “God, yes,” he manages, “please, do that forever. Don’t ever not touch me.” Which is Rodney-speak, of course. But a fairly fluent example.

Still gasping, in an attempt to regain some control over his own breathing, Kolya smiles, even though he knows Rodney can’t see. It’s the kind of smile that can be heard in his voice, anyway; one that is undeniably genuine and instinctive. “Of course,” he whispers. “I can’t envisage being without you, not touching you. I can feel you all over... even when you’re not there.”

Slowly, carefully, he manages to pull back, slipping slowly out of Rodney and half-collapsing on the floor at his side – all the better to make eye-contact at last. Which will be possible when he’s finally able to open his eyes again.

Kolya looks ecstatic. Maybe more so. Maybe so much that he makes ecstatic people look bored. How did he live without this before? For so long? It’s a question which seems to have no answer – or perhaps an answer he’d rather not engage with. And yet, it doesn’t matter. Not now. Not any more.

Although it’s a) practical b) more or less necessary and c) already happening, Rodney still manages a note of protest as Kolya pulls out of him, pulls back, leaves him damp and empty. It’s a good feeling, too, but a sad one. Except on occasions when it’s only a temporary thing, or when they have something even better in mind. Rodney does not have anything better in mind. Rodney has no mind.

After the briefest of stretches, Rodney falls heavily – more loud than anything else – and is lying, knees slightly raised, facing Kolya. There’s a second or two of judgement and thought, and then Rodney clearly comes to some decision, and all but pushes himself into Kolya’s arms, curling up entirely along the length of the other man. One hand props his head, the other finds Kolya’s face, turning it to look him full in the face from rather close up. Contact. All contact. As many forms as possible.

“You do realise,” he says, seemingly apropos of nothing, “that at this rate we’re going to kill ourselves by outdoing the last time every time we’re in the same room together. Well, except when someone else is there – most of the time. Or if we find some way to – oh, radios, I could probably rig that...”

This is when he realises – for once – that he is babbling, and huddles in even closer, leaning to kiss Kolya on the lips. “Elizabeth would be glad to know diplomatic liaison... consultation... is going well.”

“Yes,” Kolya replies, lightly, “but it is also possible that we may eventually find perfection. And then proceed to experience it a great deal.”

Possible. Hopeful. The two are somewhat interchangeable in this situation.

Eager for more contact, Kolya holds on to Rodney as he huddles closer, stroking idly but affectionately over the other man’s skin, following the contours of his shoulder. And when Rodney pulls back from kissing him, Kolya almost lifts his head to follow, the need in his eyes unhidden. When the commander actually allows himself the chance for emotional honesty, he doesn’t appear to believe in doing it by halves.

And then he laughs. “Is that what you plan to call this, then?” he asks, nigh-on playfully. “Consultation?”

“Would you rather I tell people that our attempts to find the perfect sexual experience in as many places in the galaxy as often as possible are going well? Maybe draw up a checklist of places and positions? Marks out of ten? I know some people might like to hear that, but certain others wouldn’t, especially if they aren’t getting any sex, perfect or not.” Which is a perfectly sensible point. So Rodney punctuates it with another kiss.

His hand is a bit tired under his head, so he curls it up underneath himself to lie along it, flat on the ground. His other hand is tired too, so it moves instead to rest on Kolya’s hip. Well, his ass. But it’s close to his hip. And as they’re in a rather advanced state of post-coital dishabille, a few inches, in this instance, doesn’t really matter.

“If that wasn’t perfect, I really worry about what is. I mean... well. You know what I mean.”

Suddenly, Kolya’s expression becomes very intense indeed, the look in his eyes blending from amusement to complete, meaning-heavy honesty. “I think that may have been perfect,” he says, quietly. “But nevertheless, I do not believe in complacency.”

He continues trailing his fingers up and down Rodney’s arm while he speaks, without even needing to think about it, the movement slow and calm and rhythmic.

Rodney stares for a moment, before he can mobilise for a reply. It’s possible he’s struggling to reply. “My ideas of perfect usually involved more things to eat, uniforms or hospital gowns, or all three, but... as far as... the other sides of it go...”

Trail. Unthinking, Rodney’s fingers move up a little higher, rubbing first the slight curve of Kolya’s hip, then moving to the small of his back and working up. That’s why he has his mattress, of course, and he knows from experience that it’s nice to rub there, so he does. In fact, it’s possible he’s stopped remembering where he ends, and that he’s trying to do it to his own back, but as he hasn’t noticed it isn’t his own, it’s impossible to say.

“We should definitely do it again. Conduct a scientific experiment. For... science itself. Of course, we’ll have to repeat each procedure to get accurate results...” He may be somewhat avoiding the fact that, actually, he agrees – as far as he’s had chance to judge this, anyway. Because that kind of... thing... he’s almost surprised they aren’t both unconscious after it. So, distractingly, he nips Kolya’s earlobe gently, nose pushed in the other man’s hair.

“As I have told you in the past,” Kolya says, half-whispering almost conspiratorially in Rodney’s ear, “I am a firm believer in repetition.” Which really ought not sound _quite_ as dirty as it does.

He makes a low, quiet, somewhat contented sound as Rodney’s fingers trail up his back, his own now playing across the other man’s collarbone without him needing to think about it. Idle. Gentle, even. The kind of thing his subordinates would – understandably – never think him capable of.

Rodney grins. “This is why we get on,” he tells him. He moves his head just enough that his face is touching the back of Kolya’s hand, his eyes lazily drifting half-shut.

“You know, you’re the only person I find it difficult to talk to,” Rodney says, after a brief pause. “Normally I just say whatever I want. Whether people want to hear it or not.”

Now, at first glance, a statement like that could be taken as a bad thing – but if you look at the words carefully, and at the individuals they refer to, it becomes more obvious that there’s a lot more to this, none of which is bad at all.

Kolya smiles lightly, the many layers of what he’s about to say not remotely lost on him. “Ironically... you are the only person I find it _easy_ to talk to.”

“Huh,” is what Rodney says. Because, as he just said, he never knows what to say, and he doesn’t particularly want to say a bad thing. Which he easily could. Which he often **has**.

“Comparatively speaking, of course,” Kolya adds, almost as an afterthought. Because. Really not good at the whole talking-thing in any sense of the... well. Word.

“I’ll just have to listen for once,” Rodney says. “Well, apart from the times I am actually talking, of course, or we’re both asleep, but you listen in your sleep anyway. I often have even stranger dreams when you’re in the room.”

“What do you dream?” Kolya asks, intrigued by the remark.

“Lots of things,” Rodney replies, and suddenly becomes very interested in rubbing faces again. Possibly in avoidance.

“Such as?” The question is asked in a fairly light, non-pressuring kind of way.

But it’s still a question.

With an almost silent sigh, Rodney pulls back a little to talk. “Exams. Nuclear winters. My cat. That horrible recurring lemon dream... Daleks, Wraiths sucking the life out of me.... dinosaurs. Trees. My mother’s curtains.” Then, a little head-nod-dance, and almost offhand, “-us.”

And to avoid expansion… “Why, what do you dream about?”

Oh, what a question – and one that is never, ever going to be fully answered. What does Kolya dream about? Lots of things. Everyone has all the usual boring dreams – the ones that make little sense, the ones that involve nothing more than everyday activities, the ones that fade quickly after waking.

It’s the other ones that are noteworthy. Over and over, much the same thing... rain. Constant, cold, driving rain, pouring unceasing from a bitter, grey sky. A Stargate, through which no one ever comes.

Idos. Fading, falling, crashing, dying. Athos, walking away, and never coming back.

A Wraith hiveship over Geneva, the air thick with screaming.

Rodney. Leaving.

Those dreams are usually followed by difficult mornings for the commander’s subordinates.

His eyes don’t even flicker. “My work. The places I’ve been. You.”

“I once had a dream you were fighting Colonel Carter,” Rodney admits. “I don’t know who was winning, because it kind of... degenerated after that.”

This earns Rodney an eyebrow-based expression, though Kolya chooses not to say anything about it. “I dream about fighting a great deal,” he says, instead. Which is true. He does. In fact, after some of the... aforementioned topics, fighting would have to be next on the frequency list. “Indeed, there was one only the other night – you and I were fighting in a forest. It was... vivid.”

Very. Vivid. And an excellent break from all the dreams about rain, which leave him waking up cold.

“Fighting in a good way? And with words, or weapons?”

“With weapons. But in a good way.”

Very. Very good.

“What weapons?” Rodney asks, relaxing a little and snuggling some more. “And just how much were you winning?”

This doesn’t bother him at all. He does, after all, know Kolya rather well, and did even _before_ they were captured together, so his subconscious liking weaponry is not in the least unsettling.

“...swords,” Kolya replies, ever-so-slightly reluctantly. Because swords are weird. And he hasn’t trained with one for at least ten years, so it’s a very... odd thing to dream about, in his mind.

“You were fighting remarkably well,” he goes on, grinning somewhat now. “Although I may have been winning.”

Rather a lot. It was his dream, after all.

“Swords? Don’t think I’ve ever held one in my life. Well, except in D&D, but that doesn’t count.” He lets his fingers start to trail tickling-light over Kolya’s side, his expression relaxed once more, and still rather smug. On impulse, he kisses him again.

“There aren’t any swords here, other than Ronon’s, and I’m sure he’d kill you if you tried anything. But we do have sticks, if you feel you want to... keep in practice. That kind of thing.” Dear god, could he _sound_ any more provocative? Well. If he did, he’d still have to wait, because even though it sounds a very nice idea, and the thought joins the low, warm, _hot_ feeling... Rodney is not as young as once he was. And being fucked senseless and slowly tends to take it out of a man for a while. Oh. And thinking about the fucking senseless, of course, also nice. He has a feeling he’s going to be remembering and thinking and crossing his legs rather a lot. For the next... forever.

Yeah. That sounds...

“Practice,” Kolya replies, knowingly, “is essential.” Which can, quite deliberately, be taken in several different ways.

As, apparently, can that.

Though despite his interest in regular physical exertion, the commander seems more than content to lie here indefinitely, curled and warm against Rodney, watching his eyes.

On a level of common sense – well, actually on a level of more than average education – Rodney knows precisely why eye contact is necessary and why it is also unnerving. Rodney knows a lot of things. But knowing and doing are two different things, so Rodney keeps Kolya’s eyes when he can, though his attention occasionally drifts, under guise of watching where his fingers move. But still, he looks back – some of the time – slightly confused, a little startled, but very sated. It’s unusual, even now, to catch him in a quiet mood for more than a few minutes at a time. But it happens. And lying in a temperature controlled room away from everyone else, away from all the catastrophes and near death experiences, feeling the dull, muscular aches and the tingles where fingers and blades have coursed his skin. Oh yes. Silent, warm and wanted. It soothes several things inside.

Eventually, after a seemingly indeterminate time that could have been ten minutes, or could have been two hours, the con begins to chirrup politely. Rodney smiles wryly. “It’s telling me to land. I should do it before people really start to worry. We should set down before sunset, so we can see everything properly.”

Which entails moving. Of course. Rodney carefully gets up, kicking a foot into the bulkhead to get rid of the pins and needles, leaning to fetch Kolya’s shirt, which he holds out for him to put on. Something again pushes almost physically at his mind, but lacking the words, he just sighs again, before fetching things for them both to clean up with.

Kolya takes his shirt with a nod of thanks, dragging it on, feeling almost odd to have cloth against his skin again. They haven’t been here a particularly great deal of time, all things considered – and yet it feels like an age. An age that, in some ways, could never be long enough.

Cleaning up is a fairly quick affair – practice and motivation both being immensely useful things – and soon, Kolya is re-fastening his trousers, before leaning to pick up his jacket. He slips his arms almost idly into the sleeves – mind not entirely back from wherever the preceding events have sent it.

Only then does he take a proper look out of the window – and now, that former smudge of green has become a vast landmass, racing closer and closer. It looks pleasingly explorable.

The planet the floating city of Atlantis resides on is an unusually pretty one. There has never been any sign on the surface of industrialisation, colonisation... anything. A long time has passed, long enough that any agricultural endeavours might be completely eradicated, but not anything a race as advanced as the Ancients would have left behind. No Stargate on the mainland. Nothing, except the small contingent of Athosians with their modest settlements. If it weren’t for the constant threat of the Wraith, the place might even be described as idyllic.

The puddlejumper descends gently and quietly at the edge of a small clearing – there’s a treeline behind it, green and untouched, and there’s a brief flurry of birds launching into the air at their approach. Other than the birds, there is no one to see them land. The trees barely move, more thanks to the automatic landing protocols than any aerial skill on Rodney’s part, although it could be argued that his understanding of the protocols is a skill, even if he can’t unconsciously control the ship. It’s hard to tell they’ve landed, without looking out the viewscreen. And Rodney was right, the light is starting to fail at the end of another long, Atlantean day. Another button, and the hatch at the back falls open.

Rodney picks up a small remote and nods to the open door. “Shall we?” Then he hits another button, and the puddlejumper cloaks. It’s possible he’s showing off again.

Nodding in reply, Kolya stands once more, turning to watch the rear hatch tip slowly open. Beyond it, he can see the closest trees, standing still and quiet. No dinosaurs here. No tava, either... though that could most likely be rectified in time.

Stepping to the edge of the hatch, Kolya pauses again, looking around, instinctively getting an idea of the terrain ahead, etching their location into his mind. He hardly expects to need such information, but the mental action is automatic, and over before he’s really noticed.

And then he walks outside, taking in the full view, savouring the cool air. No matter how much he likes his bunker, Kolya still can’t help enjoying the real world once in a while.

Rodney nods back to where they just came from: the now-cloaked jumper. “Useful, isn’t it? Completely invisible to human eyes, and it comes with a handy locator in case you forget where you parked.”

Then he looks out again, hefting a bag he picked up. “We should settle down, unless you have some bizarre desire to try hunting the local populace. There isn’t much other than birds and a few small mammals – oh and some aquatic life. I’m not sure how hard it is to fish here... oh, and the Athosians. But you don’t eat people, do you?” he says, tone completely level.

Occasionally, Rodney is capable of wit. Occasionally.

Completely invisible. Really. No _wonder_ Cowan had wanted one of the things! Kolya stares back at where he knows the puddlejumper is, almost daring it to give itself away somehow.

“I have no desire to hunt anything,” he replies, voice completely level – though hiding a sudden, familiar craving for fried dinosaur. He’s been getting that a lot recently. “And no. As I have informed you in the past, I do not eat people. Nor do the Genii as a whole. No matter what anyone else may try to tell you.”

Propaganda is such a fickle ally.

“I figured I was safe, unless you were lying about that, and have some really weird and twisted courtship rituals... which would be one way to promote heterosexual breeding, but somewhat difficult if you didn’t manage to brainwash all your society properly...”

Not only wit, but really, really strange ideas.

Rodney smiles. “I found the perfect place, last time I came. Come on. You can admire my genius there.”

This first remark earns the good doctor one of Kolya’s I-am-not-dignifying-that-with-a-response expressions. Why Rodney is so fixated on eating people remains a mystery, which even a man as naturally inquisitive as Kolya is in no hurry to solve.

But he turns to follow Rodney at once, returning the smile with once-unthinkable ease. “I can admire your genius wherever I want,” he says.

“Well yes,” Rodney admits, still sailing on the ship of his own ego – and either oblivious, or deliberately superior – “but if you come over here, you’ll have a better backdrop.”

Movement now oh-so-deliberate, Kolya walks right up to Rodney, watching him with sudden intent. “The backdrop,” he says, “is not the most important element.”

“No,” Rodney admits, with remarkable ease, considering Kolya’s in his face and it immediately trips all sorts of little switches inside his overworked brain. All sorts.

“In fact, there are several other places I’d much prefer to be. But some of those are tricky and some of them would have me locked away and under psychiatric care if I attempted it. And oh, you’d likely never be allowed in Atlantis ever again. But we came here because I thought you... liked it. Being outside, that is. But if you really don’t care if we’re in bed, or we’re on the mainland, or if we’re bent over my lab desk...” His fingers walk down Kolya’s chest, until they come to a halt over his waistband, fingering the buttons. “I’m more than happy to let you concentrate entirely on me.”

His grin is now practically feral. But if Kolya will ask for it, Kolya will get it.

“I do like being outside,” Kolya tells him, easily. “It adds a certain edge of... reality.”

He leans closer to Rodney again, hand on the doctor’s hip, head tilted a little. “But as you know, I am a very... focused individual.”

“I know. And I plan to keep you that way.” Rodney shoves fingers down the front of Kolya’s trousers, grabbing hold – all the better to pull him by, when he starts walking backwards to the place he’s set on.

“Apart, of course, from that brief moment your eyes go unfocussed...” the doctor adds, conspiratorially. “I like that most of all.”

Kolya smirks. “The feeling,” he says, “is mutual.”

Oh dear. Looks like he’s finally discovered the Joy of Double Entendres.

Rodney yanks harder, circling until they’ve changed positions, then all but shoves him in the direction he wants him. “Well, looks like we’ll just have to do this all again.”

They don’t get quite as far as Rodney wanted, but considering in a few seconds they’re on the floor again and scuffling with intent, he’s not so upset.

***

By the time Rodney and Acastus are next back in the puddlejumper – next flying the ship, headed back to Atlantis – the sun has long since set and the air has started its slow cool. There’s a puddlejumper-shaped indentation in the flora, with random broken branches and patches of flattened grass close by. But no one will come out here, so no one will see.

Rodney’s hands move slowly over the con, pressing buttons with ease. Well, with well-fucked don’t-give-a-damn, to be precise. He stretches, languidly.

“They should be contacting us for verification any minute...” Rodney says, smiling slightly at Kolya. “We’ll put her back, then use the transporters to get to my room.”

Glancing over at him, Kolya nods. He looks remarkably pleased with himself... not to mention really rather happy – a state of affairs that only a long, long time alone with Rodney McKay is capable of creating.

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” he says. And then, with a knowing grin, “It’s helpful that your room is so well connected.”

“Yes. Although I do admit my initial choice was based purely on survival instinct and needing to be close to the gateroom as well as my lab...”

His fingers drum a happy little tune as he waits for the little voice to do its little thing. Drum drum drum.

“Also good reasons.”

Though not nearly as important as the one which, of course, did not actually apply when the good doctor made his choice.

Kolya watches Rodney’s fingers tapping away on the control console, aware that nothing has happened yet. “Your colleagues appear to be taking their time,” he remarks. 

“Yeah. I know. Maybe there’s something wrong with the communications array...” Or maybe the little control room guy has gone for coffee. Rodney toggles the radio.

“Atlantis? This is Doctor McKay in puddlejumper three. Do you read me?”

Silence. “Atlantis?”

Almost at once, Kolya’s instincts kick in, and he suddenly looks very alert. He may not know a great deal about the operation of Atlantis, but this unexpected turn of events has a distinctly... ominous edge to it.

He doesn’t say anything yet, though, waiting to see if any response will come through.

“Jumper Three, this is Atlantis. We read you.”

The voice is Canadian. And one Rodney expected. But still, the delay does not look good. Not when he’s trying to impress his S.O.

“Something wrong over there?”

“No, just a minor lag. Doctor Zelenka is working on it.”

Also, not entirely the right procedure. Rodney frowns. “It must be the security with those ambassadors or whoever they were. That or someone will hear about this when we get back.”

Kolya does not relax in the slightest, if only because he’s learned to trust his own instincts a great deal. But he doesn’t show it; instead giving Rodney a careful look.

“Does this happen often?”

Somehow, he thinks the answer is unlikely to be ‘yes.’

“Not all the staff are military. Some people... tend to think that they can follow their own rules. But not usually.” And usually, it is... him.

“We’ll be landing in about five minutes,” he radios over.

“Safe landing, Doctor McKay.”

Now _that_ is not normal. “It’ll be someone doing this on purpose to make me look ridiculous. Or someone who needs their head biting off. Or, of course, brainsucking shapeshifting aliens. And knowing my luck...”

“It sounds as though you need to enforce a firmer sense of discipline,” Kolya remarks, speaking automatically from years and years as a military man.

And then Rodney gets a Look – albeit a rather light one. “There had better not be brainsucking shapeshifting aliens on Atlantis,” the commander says. “They are not part of my plan for the evening.”

“As soon as we get back, I’ll have him locked in irons for the rest of the week. That should do it.” Button, button, button. Slight frown.

“If there are brainsucking aliens, I want to point out I had no hand in the negotiations, have never even met them and would much rather be introducing you to the wonder that is chocolate spread than saving humanity again before bedtime.”

“Very wise,” Kolya agrees, with an amused look. Amused, but still alert.

“And believe me, the feeling is – once again – entirely mutual.”

Though now he’s wondering exactly what chocolate spread is. Atlantean food can be so very perplexing at times.

The jumper lands with no mishap. Although there should be people there and there... and...

“Okay. It isn’t my birthday, so this isn’t a surprise party... where is everyone?” Rodney does not get up from his seat. Not. Not if he’s worried, he doesn’t.

Kolya is starting to get that look in his eyes again – the one which tends to be followed by sleeping up trees and beating dinosaurs to death. It’s a very aware expression, and not exactly a happy one.

The universe clearly has it in for him again.

“Something is wrong,” he says.

“I know that, but what?”

Rodney turns back to the console and starts tapping, then he gets up and strides to the back of the ship, yanking out a panel of crystals and doing something fast and likely technical with them. Then he comes back to the pilot’s seat.

“I’m just doing a post-flight check,” he says, over the radio. “Nothing to worry about. I just thought I heard a slight whirr.”

Radio off. “That should buy us a few minutes. I’m just doing some non-invasive and suspicious checks of the city’s systems...” he says, even as his eyes flicker lightning-fast between the controls and the HUD. Very. Very fast.

“There was a prolonged incoming wormhole...” he says, slowly.

“So there could be a fairly large number of hostiles in the city.”

There’s something rather familiar about this, even with nothing confirmed yet, and Kolya is trying hard not to engage with it too much. He stands – feeling more ready for action that way – hand drifting to the gun holstered at his hip. 

“We don’t know that for sure. It could... it could be anything. It could be that the guy who is supposed to be running landing procedure had a massive nosebleed and someone else who hadn’t been sleeping had to be dragged in to cope...”

Rodney’s speech is speeding up again. A clear sign of worry. Lots and lots of it.

“Jumper Three, is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes, we’re just coming now.”

“Rodney?” Elizabeth’s voice.

“Elizabeth?”

“I’m sure whatever problem there is can wait until morning. Doctor Zelenka can look into it.”

“Yes, yes, I know he can, I’d just like to reassure myself that I’m not risking explosive decompression in improperly maintained vessels.”

“Understood. But now is not the time for more work. You should get some rest so you can look into it in the morning. You don’t need to report in, just go to your quarters.”

“Right. Right. Copy that. McKay out.”

The transmission switch set to ‘off’ again. “...although, Elizabeth ordering us to go off and have sex? Not what I would expect from her.” He starts to tug his jacket back on again, finding his own gun, a lifesigns detector... anything useful he doesn’t already carry on his person when at ease.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. But we should drop by my lab, just to make sure.”

Kolya can tell that Rodney is more than a little worried – which is understandable, considering that something really does seem to be afoot here. He watches the other man carefully, trying to read all the unspoken elements of his reaction.

“No,” he agrees. “That does not sound entirely like Doctor Weir.”

He paces closer to the hatch, drawing his gun in mid-step, the action fluid and effortless. “What will you do when we get there?” Kolya asks, partly so he knows exactly what’s going on, and partly to help keep Rodney’s thoughts on track.

“I’ll... talk to them. See if anything’s amiss. If I get into the transporter... I can be there before they can group in the laboratory, hopefully. Unless they expect me to go to the lab... They might be all at gun-point, which would explain Elizabeth sounding weird...”

Rodney is not so much pacing as taking one step then spinning. The effect is dizzying. It’s even more dizzying if you happen to _be_ Rodney.

“You should put your gun away. If you’re seen carrying it openly... even if there **is** no foothold situation, things will be bad. And if there **is** one? We need to let them think we don’t suspect it, and hope they don’t just shoot us on sight. God, I wish I had my magic turtle,” he adds, mounrfully.

“You think that sounds okay? Should we split up? If we did we’d be less able to defend ourselves, but if someone barricades themself in here...” This is more a Sheppard thing than a McKay thing. And just typical. He’s the only one who knows the city and the people and the protocol here...

“Open the rear hatch,” Kolya says. “If there’s no obvious sign of danger, I will put the gun away.” A very clear ‘for now’ hangs on the end of this sentence.

“And no. We should most definitely not split up. If we stay together, we will be able to watch each other’s backs.” I’ll be able to make sure nothing happens to you. “And just what is a ‘magic turtle?’”

Rodney looks confused for a moment, his mind already racing several steps ahead. A magic... oh. “The Ancients had this device,” he says, waving a hand up and down in front of his chest, “you put it on and became invulnerable. Completely invulnerable. Punches, bullets, high drops, weird floating energy cloud darkness? You name it. It was a working model of a research project. But the darkness drained it... and we don’t have any others.”

His fingers curl into his slightly damp palms, thumbs rubbing along his knuckles. “Right. Okay. Stand behind me when I open the door. There shouldn’t be anyone here... the lifesigns detector didn’t pick anyone up, but of course they might be able to cloak themselves, or be some strange race that isn’t picked up by them...”

Which is stalling. A little. He realises, and drags his heel to the other, an almost-military attention. Jaw steeled. Buck settled. Whatever else you do. And then he turns to the hatch and presses the button...

Invulnerability. What a gift. Kolya completely understands why Rodney would wish for a device like that right now. Or possibly all the time.

He moves to stand behind the doctor, gun held at his side – useable, but not immediately obvious. His other hand, he raises to lay on Rodney’s shoulder, fingers curling to give what he hopes is a reassuring grip.

And then the hatch drops slowly open, revealing what _appears_ to be the quiet, empty hangar bay. Kolya lets his eyes dart quickly around, checking as much of the area as he can see before he moves.

The hand on his shoulder makes Rodney jump. But considering he’s half expecting to run into Elizabeth and Sheppard at gun-point and be forced to do all kinds of bad things, it’s somewhat understandable.

“Anyone here?” he asks loudly, before walking equally loudly further into the room. Stealth? Good. But making them think he’s still oblivious? Probably better.

Kolya follows, eternally cautious, though still not speaking. His fingers tighten around the gun at his side, pressing soundlessly into warm, familiar metal. Even though no reply to Rodney’s words seems to be forthcoming, that certainly does not mean there’s no one here.

If there is someone, he’s going to find them. And they won’t like it if he does. That look in his eyes is unmistakable: it’s Kolya’s Working Look.

It is not good news.

After a moment, he glances over at Rodney. “We should get moving,” he says. “If something is going on here, we don’t want to stay where we can easily be found.”

“No, of course not, right.” But something’s wrong. Something he can feel but can’t quite... “They expect me to take the transporter. We shouldn’t go any way they might expect.”

“Agreed,” Kolya replies, nodding. “You know the city best. How can we get to your lab without anyone realising where we might be headed?”

Rodney’s eyes flicker up as he starts reading his internal schematics, trying to run it at the same time as a probability of being discovered. It doesn’t help that the stress is making him jam up.

“We should go... that way,” he says, pointing in a seemingly random direction.

“All right.”

Kolya moves to follow, somewhat reluctantly slipping his gun back into his holster – though keeping his hand on it. No sense in complacency. And all at once, he decides there’s something else he needs to say.

“Try to stay calm. If something is indeed happening here, we will deal with it. And I will not let anything happen to you.”

He means it, of course. More than he meant it all those weeks ago, on the Wraith ship. Or the Planet. There’s dedication, and then there’s Acastus Kolya with his mind really, really set on something.

Rodney stops when Kolya speaks, and turns to look at him. He blinks rather faster than he should. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he says, not _sounding_ self-deprecatory, or ironic, “but I tend to do best when I panic. If I panic on the outside...”

There’s a long, long story for you. And not one he’s even formulated into words inside his own head. Not properly, at least. There’s a halt. You could probably predict how long these pauses last – these ‘Rodney is attempting to think and act like normal people do and he normally doesn’t’ moments. “I know,” he says, no reference intended. Although a millisecond later and it’s there. Albeit unspoken and on only one side. “With my brains and your brawn... we theoretically make a dream team. Although maybe a dream team would have a negotiator in it too, because I’m not very good at that, and I doubt you really enjoy the happy friendly tree-hugging benevolent hippie mode.”

Then he looks down the corridor. Swallows something. Looks back for... some signal, or something. Possibly some weird military gesture he has no hope of understanding.

“I can do negotiation,” Kolya says, flatly. “I can be remarkably good at it.”

Which is true. If you use Kolya’s definition of ‘negotiation,’ as opposed to the more traditional meaning. Oddly enough, after a few moments of Kolya-style negotiation, most people _do_ accept his definition.

He gives Rodney a nod. “Keep going. Try not to look like you expect us to be attacked at any moment. Overly-cautious behaviour will alert anyone who may be watching.”

This is not an enjoyable situation. If they _are_ going to be attacked, then Kolya wants it to be sooner rather than later. Once a firm sign of danger can be found, he can relax and get down to the business of dealing with it.

Oh. If he ends up having to help save Atlantis from intruders... now that is going to cause serious mental issues. The universe can be quite a circular bastard at times.

“Right. Right. Inconspicuous... I’ve been working on the star drives,” he says, hands moving rapidly in some kind of explanatory fashion. Perhaps. “When fully powered, they could – and did – float the entire city. And others like it; Atlantis wasn’t the only one. Now, obviously we don’t have the power to float the city, but I’ve been looking into smaller models with an aim to having... I don’t know, aerial artillery, perhaps. Mount some railguns and surface-to-air missiles... maybe even drones...”

The corridors are unusually empty. Very, very empty. Even for the middle of the local night – Atlantis runs in shifts. Rodney starts walking faster. It’s amazing how fast he can walk without complaining when he doesn’t realise he’s rushing. “Now obviously they would have to be cloaked as well, which has all sorts of other problems. But in theory it could work. If they were mobile enough to avoid return fire...”

He gives no indication as to how long this will take. To tell the truth, he doesn’t entirely know himself. His autopilot is engaged, and working well, for once. Scientists can often find their labs better than their rooms, however.

Letting Rodney talk is usually easy – given that the man is rarely without something to say – but allowing him to do so in a situation like this seems... odd. Kolya knows it is probably best that they try **not** to look like they’re sneaking around the city, yet all the same, being this unstealthy is a little strange.

So. Unstealthy, but still very alert. At every intersection in the corridors, Kolya checks each direction for some sign of what might be going on, instantly ready to act if such a thing is called for. Other than that, all he can do is follow as they walk the strangely empty passageways of Atlantis, footsteps echoing lightly in the relative silence. 

“So you can see... Radek!” Rodney says, stopping short with his finger still pointing at something invisibly obvious. “How nice it is to see you!”

Rodney’s grin is all but cemented on when he turns to Kolya. “This is Radek. Radek Zelenka. The Czech I told you about with the...” smaller gesture of hair, but hands lower down. In case he startles what may or may not be a Radek, suddenly in front of them and now – with walking – right in front of them.

“You haven’t met, have you? This is Acastus Kolya....”

It might not be Radek. It might be some higher-tech invasion of the body-snatchers. He may just have finally gone insane. But whatever it is, Rodney can’t do anything other than pretend (unconvincingly) that everything is normal. Because to act otherwise... would feel wrong. Worse wrong. Or something.

Kolya has never met Radek Zelenka before, although he has heard about him from Rodney on a number of occasions. If nothing else, that amusing little hair-gesture seems entirely justified on meeting the man it refers to.

But is this really Radek Zelenka? In a split-second, Kolya realises it might not be. If there is something going on here – and all his instincts tell him that something _major_ is indeed going on here – then to just happen to run into one of Rodney’s closest colleagues seems a little... convenient. Then again, it could be coincidence. This might be an Atlantean, or it might be... what did Rodney say? A brainsucking, shapeshifting alien?

The latter does not sound good, though it does, alas, seem more likely. No need to give that away, however. Well. Much.

Kolya stands rather close to Rodney, hand drifting near to his holstered gun, managing to look conspicuously protective, but not actually openly aggressive. Yet.

“We meet at last,” Kolya says to possibly-Zelenka. “Rodney has told me about you.”

“He has?” Fingers go up to push the glasses back up the bridge of his nose. The gesture is sufficiently Radek-esque, but possibly too fortunately so. His accent, too, seems impeccably Radek. If it is a copy, it’s a very good one.

Rodney blurts out in his defence: “Yes. Well, no. Not much. Look, we were just on our way to picking up a few things I... left in my haste. Where is everyone?”

“There has been power fluctuations. We are not sure exactly why, but we attempting to minimise problem until it is solved. Most non-science are in their rooms. Some also offworld.”

“Why did no one contact me?” Rodney asks, frowning. “If something is bad enough to shut down the city...”

“Communications have been... hard. We try.”

“Why would power fluctuations warrant action close to a lockdown?” Kolya asks, levelly. It’s a fair question, but he’s hoping it might offer him a chance to catch maybe-Zelenka out.

At the same time, Kolya’s gaze flicks between Rodney and the newcomer, trying to simultaneously read the man who might be an enemy, and to catch on to any ideas Rodney might be having about this – both in the hope of staying firmly connected to what’s going on, and also so that he can play along the same lines if necessary.

Attempts to find non-violent situations can be so very awkward, and this little trick works so much better in proper interrogations.

“There were... spikes in places, yes, energy spikes. Ah, Colonel Sheppard was injured by one, so we decided minimise the risk,” says ‘Radek’, looking at Kolya.

“Rodney, is best you sleep. Very few people still moving, so risk of injury is slight. We will read database and when you have rest, you can help then.” He pauses. “Doctor Weir herself say so.” Pause. “If you are... distracted, it could lead to problems, yes?”

Rodney simply stares at the shorter, scruffier man. He’s very good at staring scientists down – they usually need or ask for it, anyway. “Fine. We’ll get what we were looking for, then we’ll head back to my room.”

“Do you want someone to send it?”

“No. I don’t want anyone interfering with my things. They’ll only get the wrong thing and then I’ll have to go and do it myself. But then – seeing as this is all in your capable hands,” and here, Rodney manages a venom that would poison lesser men without experience in handling McKay’s... intellectual habits. “Just don’t wake me up crying if the whole city blows. Acastus, we’re leaving.” And, with the air of a perfect prima donna, Rodney storms off down the corridor, without looking back.

Kolya flashes an almost amused, if rather nasty smirk at maybe-Zelenka, turning to stay close to Rodney as he storms away. Although, it has to be said, the commander looks like he’s fighting the urge to turn and shoot at maybe-Zelenka.

He probably wouldn’t kill him if he did. Probably. That ‘probably’ is the only reason that he forces himself to resist said urge. Just.

“I take it you do not believe that man was the real Radek Zelenka?” he asks, when they’re out of earshot.

“No. Unless the whole city is so filled up with celibate people that everyone’s living vicariously through me, I would say that was not him. Or if it was him, it was him... altered,” Rodney says, not letting up the pace. But now the eyes are off him, he looks worried again.

“We can’t hurt them,” he says, suddenly stopping so he’s more or less invalidating any kind of personal space whatsoever, and almost transgressing the laws of physics. “It might still be them. They could be possessed... that’s happened a lot. They could be robots. They could be clones. They could be anything... but we can’t risk killing anyone, in case it **is** them underneath, and in case we can save them.”

His hand goes up to his forehead again. “We need Wraith stunners... no. Too big. Zats. We need zats...” Think, Rodney, think. “They want me in my room. Hopefully not so they can watch us having sex, because while I’m up for new things, having some freaky-ass copycat aliens take over the city to watch us get sweaty isn’t really on the list. They probably want to confine me so I can’t work out what’s going on, which means I can work out what’s going on, or they think I can work out what’s going on, or at least stop it. But why let us back in the city in the first place?”

Although he hasn’t mentioned it, he’s now started navigating towards various small, hidden armouries. Because there will be no shooting of the co-workers. Not even Kavanagh.

“And just what is a ‘zat?’” Kolya asks. It’s a very fair question – and it hides the remark he won’t let himself make; namely, that there might come a point where they have no choice but to shoot people. When it comes to survival, he knows where the priority lies in his mind.

“I agree,” he goes on, “they most likely want to control your movements, so you cannot act against them. As for letting us back in... maybe they want you for something more specific. Or maybe it was a snap-decision. They might have believed that keeping you in a controllable environment was safer than having you flying around the city in an armed spacecraft.”

“They could easily have shot me down,” Rodney says. He says it more or less calmly. More or less. “They could have done any number of things I’m glad they didn’t. Maybe they hadn’t accounted for me...” Which sounds better than ‘are coming to get you later and force you to do unpleasant things’. Much better.

“Zat... zat’nik’atel. Something used in my galaxy... it’s about the size of a gun. One shot stuns. Two shots kill. Three disintegrate. No more enemy.”

And then there’s a sound of footsteps at last. Rodney suddenly plasters himself to the wall, and starts bending at the knees to slowly lower himself... a smaller target, but still one ready to run. He looks over at Kolya, attempting to communicate such things as ‘don’t get killed’, ‘don’t get me killed’ and ‘don’t kill them’ all at once. It is a very involved expression. 

Kolya decides he rather likes the idea of a zat. It sounds like a most useful thing to have – and as such, he hopes to get hold of one soon. If nothing else, it will reduce the risk of him actually killing one of the Atlanteans – which in all honesty is a distinct possibility, and becoming more so as they get deeper and deeper into this.

He moves quickly to the wall at Rodney’s side as the footsteps suddenly become obvious, the good doctor’s expression extraordinarily readable in the few seconds in which they make eye-contact. And he tries, in return, to convey a reassuring look, though it’s possible he looks more violent than reassuring.

The footsteps draw closer – closer and closer – and Kolya is through with trying to do this conspicuously. Or diplomatically. He slips his gun from its holster again, waits for the footsteps to get _really_ close, and then darts into the open, weapon poised to fire.

Rodney can’t help it, he panics all of a sudden, and charges Kolya into the opposite wall, yelling something akin to... ‘AAAAAH!’ again. It is a very useful exclamation. It was probably a less useful action.

The footsteps turn into two people Rodney would vaguely recognise if he weren’t suddenly having a panic attack at a) possible imminent death and b) the blame thereof being his. Fortunately, the two people happen to be either completely unprepared, or just plain inept, and neither of them draws their sidearms immediately. Which is when Rodney yells, “RUN!”

And so he does.

Having a lot of high-speed scientist slammed into you when you’re trying to concentrate is simply not helpful. Luckily, Kolya has good enough control of his reflexes to avoid firing in mid-slam, although it’s a close thing.

And then Rodney is racing off before Kolya can even make some kind of verbal response to all this – and Kolya, of course, is not one for running. He re-takes aim, just as one of the two newcomers (neither of whom Kolya recognises) moves to draw his own gun.

Really. Really not going to allow that.

Before much reaction can take place, Kolya points his weapon at the man and shoots him in the leg, suddenly looking extremely dangerous indeed. As the shot man stumbles, his colleague tries to catch him – and now Kolya turns his aim on the second man.

“Tell your superiors that we’re coming for them,” he says. “If I couldn’t have this city, neither can you.”

And he turns now, racing off after Rodney, feeling strangely alive again. If nothing else, a little bit of combat really does him good. Though this might not be the best arena for it.

“Oh god, oh god, now they know we know and they know we know they know we know...” says Rodney, the words tumbling out of him as he careens off like a track-hare on supplements. It takes several corners for him to slow down, and bend over panting, hands above his knees.

“You shot him, oh god...”

Not with the good. No. Exactly what Rodney was trying to avoid. If for nothing else than it would make people less willing to work with him, and less likely that Kolya be allowed out of the city ever. Or maybe allowed out, but never back in. And this is so horrible. This is like all of his worst nightmares come true. All that’s left is for Sheppard to walk in on him and Kolya having sex, tell him he sucks, and demonstrate how sex should be done with Kolya, while Rodney watches. Really. Really bad. Hands in hair bad. Complete insensibility bad.

“You... I was trying to stop you shooting him because all sorts of bad things happen when you shoot people and I only shot Ford but he trapped me upside down and he was dangerous and I only shot him in the shoulder but he didn’t stop... do you have any idea how terrible this all is? Really?”

This reaction is understandable, but Kolya remains resolute. “I did not kill him,” he points out, levelly. “And faced with the choice of running away or making a show of strength, I chose the latter. If I had merely run, they would still have realised that we know something is going on. At least now they also know that we will not give in easily.”

He takes a deep breath, listening to see if it sounds like anyone is trying to follow them, but the corridors seem silent again. And then, needing to calm Rodney down, he lays a hand on his shoulder again, palm resting against the curve of his neck, thumb tilting his chin to allow eye-contact.

“Try to stay focused. We are _going_ to find a way to resolve this.”

“How?” Rodney squeaks. “It seems like they have the whole city. And we don’t even know if they are robots, or pandimensional beings, or gelatinous moulding clay, or... anything! And they’ve injured people already, if that fake-Radek wasn’t lying. We have no idea where to start, and nothing but whatever weapons we can pick up and carry and our wits. Forgive me for feeling a little like we’re all going to die.”

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes until he can see lights in the darkness, then slams his fists into the wall behind him. “They know. They can probably track us. They definitely know where we just were... wait...”

Sudden inspiration, and Rodney runs to the teleporter just further along, then hits the panel. The doors obligingly open. A quick fumble in his pockets reveals a... okay, a little bottle of something red that he’s going to ignore the contents of right now, and the implications therein. He flings it at the map on the wall. It falls, but by the time it hits the ground, the teleporter has moved it far too far to hear.

“Not that it will do any good if they can calibrate the lifesigns sensors... but it’s better than nothing.” Then the idea is done, and all that’s left is worry again. And a probable need of weaponry.

“You wanted to go in search of non-lethal firearms,” Kolya points out, trying to keep all of this on track. “We ought to do that. If other hostiles turn up, we need to be able to fight them – and you know it.”

This isn’t easy. He doesn’t know the city, doesn’t know the enemy, and the only person who can truly deal with the situation is not exactly calm, calmable – or, indeed, calming. Not at the moment, at least.

“Yes, yes, yes... I’m having a little difficulty in running an entire military operation here. I was counting on getting out the nipple clamps, not single-handedly saving the city **again**.” One. Two. Th – “Well, not single-handedly, but I am the one who knows Atlantis best,” he modifies.

“Down there,” Rodney adds, nodding further along the way he was running. “It’s the least likely to be guarded place. Unless they know I know that and guard it. If they do, we’re screwed.”

“You are,” Kolya replies, trying to stay focused despite the sudden influx of distracting thoughts. “And whilst I can quite easily run this military operation, as you put it... you might prefer that I did not,” he points out.

“Come on. If the armoury in question is guarded... we will have to deal with that.”

Rodney nods, and sets out in silence for the moment. It’s quite one thing accepting that your partner has different views and methods in regards to certain things, but actually coming into contact with said views and methods is a different thing together. It shouldn’t be. It should. It is.

It sets off all kinds of trains of thought, many of which are armoured, and many of which are loaded. In all senses of the word.

Rodney’s route is indirect again, and filled with pauses as he hears – or thinks he hears – movement nearby. They don’t seem able or willing to track them at the moment, but it’s something that could change any minute. And the longer they go without incapacitating weapons, the more likely it is that things he doesn’t want to happen will happen.

“It isn’t a criticism of your methods... well, it is, in a way – but it’s different. You don’t know these people. I do. And whilst I might not be the most gregarious of individuals... I don’t really want anyone hurt. It’s... important. Maybe because I’ve never really felt like that before. Well, obviously there have been people I don’t want hurt, but now there’s more, and there’s the possibility they might...” He bites his lip. “I’m sorry. I know you’re kind of forced to think that way. I just want you to know... I know.”

And they’re almost there. Which is good, because Rodney’s heart is doing all sorts of fast things. Fast things that aren’t good. Really not good. All this excitement takes years off his life. Probably because it could take **all** of his life, actually.

This is not easy. Not easy at all. Kolya does not actually want to kill Atlanteans – assuming these people they keep encountering _are_ Atlanteans, as opposed to... something else – but he’s been trained to believe in the greater good. And sometimes, in order to protect many, one has to sacrifice a few.

If this had happened on Geneva... he might well be shooting to kill by now. Not because he _wants_ to kill, but because it would be the best way to ensure the survival of as many people as possible.

“I am not trying to get your people killed,” Kolya points out. “I promise you that. But I know from experience that in a combat situation, one sometimes has to make difficult decisions.”

There are two levels to this statement. One is, of course, yes: this is how I think and how I operate. But the other is perhaps more important: if it comes to a choice between you or them, I will choose you. Every time.

“Decisions I can’t make,” Rodney says, in one of those moments of awareness that happen to most people, some more often than others. “It’s why I don’t envy you, or Elizabeth, or Colonel Sheppard. I’m much happier with my computers.”

Head duck. “I know you don’t **want** to,” Rodney goes on. “But I know you might **have** to. And I’m sorry.” _Because I can’t_. Not unless he’s really, really pushed. Which is why they need those zats. Assuming they work on whoever these people are.

“It’s the third door on the left after this corner,” he adds, nodding in the right direction. “How do you want to do this?”

Kolya can make those kinds of decisions. He can make them when it’s his own people, or someone else’s, and he can do it without having to think too much. Without needing to think too much.

He can just step back and decide. It doesn’t scare him – though that’s not to say he views such a thing lightly. Far from it.

“Is there any way to determine if there are guards inside?” he asks.

Rodney frowns, pauses, then fumbles for the lifesigns detector. He pushes a few buttons, then holds it flat for Kolya to see. “Two,” he says quietly. Rodney-quietly. Which is to say, fairly loud but filled with aspirants.

Not exactly good. Clearly this is going to be difficult.

“All right,” Kolya replies, thinking on the spot. “Give me your sidearm, because I need to be able to cover them both simultaneously. I want you to hit the button to open the door, so I can take the hostiles by surprise. If all goes well, I should be able to do this without having to shoot anyone.”

If all goes well. If it doesn’t go well, someone is going to die.

There’s a moment of hesitation, and then Rodney complies. Mainly because he knows that whilst he did shoot Ford – and it was a perfectly good disabling shot – Ford kept going. And god only knows what will happen if he shoots **these** people. If. If he could bring himself to do it. Maybe.

“The zats look like this,” he says, drawing the shape with his finger in the air. “They’ll be in boxes. But you might be able to get a Wraith stunner when you get inside, before that.”

A deep breath, held in. “Right.” And he walks – silently, for once – to the door. And waits. And then counts down with his fingers. Three. Two. One. Press.

Gun in either hand – a combat trick he hasn’t needed to use for a while – Kolya approaches the door, poised to move. Deep breath. One. Two. Another.

Then the door sweeps open – and as it does, there is a lot of very fast movement. Kolya dives briskly inside the room, which is fairly small, though well-lit. Two men – seemingly Atlanteans – are inside, standing around a crate of guns of some kind.

One of them has his back to the door, but the other does not. Taking the chance he’s been hoping to get, Kolya cracks the first man about the back of the head with the barrel of one of his guns, sending said target reeling to the floor before he has an opportunity to work out what’s happening. The other man, however, has already seen the door open – and then seen his associate incapacitated from behind in a few seconds.

His sidearm comes up, pointing at Kolya, who keeps both of his guns trained on the standing target. No one blinks.

“Drop it,” Kolya growls, suddenly radiating aggression. “Drop it or I _will_ kill you.”

Still no one blinks. The maybe-Atlantean seems a little surprised, but doesn’t look like he’s going to back down. For a split-second, Kolya is ready to pull the trigger, ready to kill the man without another thought. He’s fairly sure he can. He certainly wants to. But then he realises there might be an alternative.

A risky alternative. And one which will have Rodney deeply, deeply worried for about five seconds. Even so. Because out of the corner of his eye, Kolya has spotted what is obviously one of these ‘zat’ guns.

He moves, feinting left, but going right. Drops. Ducks. Rolls. Swipes up the zat, dropping one of his own guns, even as the maybe-Atlantean attempts to open fire – and misses. Just.

And then a vivid electric whine cuts the air, a single bolt of zat-fire sending the target crumpling to the ground all at once. Kolya stands, looking at the new weapon in his grip with a pleasingly impressed expression.

There are two schools of thought regarding military working relationships. One is this: if you are in battle alongside the people you care for, you are more likely to fight harder for yourself and for them. This is the Theban theory. The second is this: if you are in battle alongside the people you care for, you are compromised. This is the American approach.

Rodney looks pale. In fact, for a few seconds it looks as though there’s no blood left in the man, and then it all rushes upwards, making his chest and face tingle hotly. Watching that was not fun, even from the very limited vantage point he’d had. Not fun at all.

He walks in and picks up two zats, without even looking at Kolya. His hand shakes, so he pulls them back in at once, then turns so he can look at the two unconscious men instead. “Do you think we should restrain them? I mean, we don’t want them running off and telling everyone what we’re up to, or want them to come back and maul me so you have to carry me around Atlantis, because that was bad enough then and I don’t think I could cope with that again...”

He is studiously Not Talking about what just happened. Not at all. He wants to be sick. He wants to hit Kolya. He wants to hold him. He wants to scream, and kick these men here – if they are men. But instead, he fumbles with the unfamiliar Goa’uld weapon. So... serpentine. Dangerous. Small.

Oh look, flashbacks. Kolya could really do without those right now.

“Can you trip the door to lock from the outside?” he asks. Because whilst he could tie these two men up, he has nothing particularly robust to do so with. Besides, it takes longer, and he’s now flooded with adrenaline, so therefore wants to keep moving.

If nothing else, he still has rather a lot of very vivid, recent memories involving tying people up. And he’d rather not break said memories.

Whilst he speaks, Kolya retrieves the gun he dropped in order to pick up the zat – Rodney’s gun – twisting it to offer it back to the doctor. Whilst these zats may be impressive, he still wants to keep hold of the kind of weapon he knows he can rely on.

Rodney takes the gun without thinking, grabbing some more clips to fill them with his other hand. Worrying how easy it is to adapt to these things.

“Probably. Yes. Enough to keep them inside, unless they have a small cannon, missile launcher, or are more intelligent than me, which is unlikely in the extreme.”

There’s a Wraith stunner here, too. Kolya is very tempted by it – though this type of weapon holds connotations of its own. And besides, he’s always preferred smaller firearms.

Small firearms, small blades. Big sticks, though. Alas, the armoury contains none of those.

Slipping his own gun back into its holster, he now lets the zat rest in his left hand. It wants to be there – which is good, because so long as he keeps a non-deadly weapon as his primary mode of attack, Kolya is unlikely to kill anyone.

Unlikely.

“All right,” Kolya replies, with a nod. “Do that, and then we should move on.”

He steps out into the corridor again, checking both directions carefully – and all the while knowing that he’s avoiding any kind of conversation beyond the operational necessities. He knows Rodney is not happy – and he knows why.

And he knows that, right now, there is nothing he can do about it. No matter how much he might wish otherwise.

Tripping the lock is easy enough, but tripping it to a suitable degree of complexity to baffle someone trying to un-jam the lock from either side is another thing entirely. Plus, Rodney doesn’t want to do any permanent damage either, so that no one can ever get in or out again. For one, even if these people aren’t Terran, he doesn’t particularly want to starve anyone to death. It’s one of his nightmares, too.

Finally he’s done. And then rubbing his hand over his face. “We need to work out what we’re dealing with, and if these people are who they look like or not. And if they know what they know or not. I could hack the system anyway, and have the city entirely in my control – but if they have Zelenka, and Elizabeth and Sheppard’s command codes... it would make it nigh on impossible for me to do anything.”

“I assume the best place to access the computer system would be in your lab – given that the control room is likely to be guarded?” Kolya asks. Which takes care of the technical question.

It’s the other issue that’s tricky. “If these people are impostors, and not parasites controlling hosts... they must possess the ability to alter their appearance with great precision. The only way to know if someone was real, so to speak, would be by what they knew. But if they somehow know what the real versions know... we may not be able to tell them apart.”

What an alarming thought – to be left answerless even once one’s questions have been answered.

Rodney runs his hand over his face some more, fingers moving from his temples to his eyes. “Medical bay,” he says eventually. “Zelenka said Colonel Sheppard was injured. He might be there, or we might be able to find some way of differentiating with the equipment there. And, just so you know, Biology was not my best subject. It was too vague and imprecise. And I had practically every thing wrong with my body, except for my mind, so I gave it up.”

Were this a slightly less serious situation, Kolya might well have taken this moment to point out that there is nothing at all wrong with Rodney’s body. Quite the opposite, in fact.

But this is not – alas – the time. Businesslike, he nods. “We will have to hope that some kind of test is possible,” he says, wondering what they’ll do if it isn’t. “Let’s go.”

“If there isn’t anyone there,” Rodney says, the words reluctant and slow, “you’ll have to find someone.” You. Not we. It wasn’t intentional at all. Right now, very little is. “And where is Carson when you **actually** need him?”

“That, I can do,” replies Kolya, quiet confidence in his voice. “But we must not split up at any point. If we do, there will be no way to know, when we regroup, if the other person is who they claim to be.”

“No. No. Right. Of course. Well, we’re just going to have to not split up then, aren’t we?”

“Indeed.”

Very, very important. Kolya doesn’t want to leave Rodney alone regardless – but coupled with the knowledge that he could end up with a not-Rodney instead, he’s utterly set on it.

They’re walking the corridors once more, now – quiet and cautious. So far, there’s no sign of anyone else, but Kolya is well aware that complacency cannot be part of an operation like this.

The walk is tense again – tense like huge storm going to kill us and Kolya’s here tense. Tense like ZPM and the Wraith are coming have to find it and Kolya’s here tense. Tense oh my GOD a dinosaur just ate me and Kolya’s here tense. Not that Rodney is only ever tense with Kolya around, just that... it was a different kind of tense, almost. And considering the thing they did with the metal bar and the thing with the hand and... well, most of it, there’s probably some kind of logical explanation to the majority of it. Even the thing with the sitting. Oh, and the hog-tying, though Kolya doesn’t know that yet.

Yet.

“There are... five people,” Rodney says, eyes glued to the little screen, holding up four fingers with his zat-hand, the thumb keeping it in place, “just... down the corridor we’re coming up to on the left.”

Oh brilliant. Five people. This might take a little thinking. Kolya’s fast, but trying to take down five targets without taking a hit oneself is tricky. He pauses, hefting the zat almost thoughtfully, looking at the screen Rodney is holding up.

“I assume they are directly in the path we need to take?” he asks, whilst mentally running through ways to do this without getting himself or Rodney killed in the process.

As that would be very, very bad.

Rodney chews his lip. He does not want to reply. “Y-es, unless you want to walk around the balconies and swing from this to the next...”

No. As soon as he suggests it he thinks, no. “But we’d be much better finding a closet to hide in.”

“That might be a little excessive,” Kolya reasons. If nothing else, balconies lead to memories, and memories lead to distraction, and distraction is bad.

“And we are most definitely not hiding in a closet.” No matter how much fun we could have. “Now. I could attempt to take down all five of them, but the risk of injury in the process would be particularly high, considering the lack of cover and opposing odds. What we need is a diversion...”

Oh. Oh. Kolya’s said that before. And there’s some more memories for you.

Rodney’s response is appropriately energetic. “I knew you were going to say that. I knew it. And what exactly did you have in mind? Am I to run out screaming that you’re going to kill me, or something? Or maybe I should surrender, and then you can shoot them all in the back while they walk me off to the brig, or the command room?”

Rodney. Hates. Diversions. Hates diversions especially when **he** is them.

“Is there another option?” Kolya asks. “Can you do something using the city itself – injure them from a distance, perhaps? Or, at least, distract their attention?”

It would be preferable, after all. No, really.

Rodney’s nose wrinkles as he thinks, but the exertion and stress really isn’t helping. “Unfortunately I haven’t found the sprinkler system... but I might be able to do something with the lights... _possibly_ get a door opening and closing randomly... but that will mean they can probably track us down from the command room if they know what they’re doing.”

“We may have to take that risk,” Kolya replies. “Unless you’d prefer to try the more... traditional diversion?”

In all honesty, he’d prefer the former. It’s less likely to get Rodney killed.

“If I take out the lights, we won’t be able to see, either,” Rodney says. “I could... attempt to make a door problem look like an accident... but the chances are high that they’ll be in radio contact anyway and figure out when they go silent that something happened...”

“I would need you to find a way to get several of them looking away from this direction – which should make it easier to take them down before they react,” Kolya says. “Shooting them in the back reduces the risk of the target returning fire.”

So calm. So matter-of-fact. So very... him.

“So. Either you create a malfunction further down the corridor, or you walk up to them and try to keep them distracted. We can do whichever you’re more comfortable with, or whichever you think will work best.”

Not that you like either idea, of course. But still. One has to compromise.

Neither plan is especially good. And any plan that involves Rodney walking towards more-than-likely hostile persons is not good. And then, it hits him. He walks to one side, hits a panel and opens a door. He holds out the lifesigns detector and his zat.

“You stay in here until they reach me. I’ll try to distract them and stand at that panel,” he says, pointing at the one next to the door across the corridor. “While they are all looking at me and what I’m doing, you come out and stun them. If you’re only shooting once per target... it won’t kill me. It won’t be especially pleasant, but it won’t kill me. So avoid stunning me if at all possible. But if you have to or I die then do it. You won’t be able to hear anything unless... unless we can jam it just a little bit open, and then if it sounds like they’re going to shoot me, that would be a good time to come out. If that happens, I’ll try to get in that room,” pointing again, “for cover, and shoot from behind the door.” With my gun. Because it will be the only weapon I have.

“Questions?” he asks, in a tone that suggests there better not _be_ any, because the group is almost here.

Kolya merely shakes his head. It’s a good plan, save for the part where Rodney might just get himself killed. But Kolya knows, above all else, that he has to trust in his abilities to prevent that happening – and in Rodney’s own abilities to keep himself alive.

“Be careful,” is all Kolya says in reply, though his eyes say much more.

And then he ducks into the room, which appears to be some sort of maintenance post. Needing to find some way to keep the door open just enough to hear what’s going on, Kolya quickly scans the nearest table, swipes up a thin, flat object whose purpose is quite beyond him, and holds it so as to catch the door as it swishes shut.

Perfect. The gap is barely noticeable, but Kolya can just about hear what’s happening in the corridor. Zat in either hand, he waits.

There is nothing wrong with the door panel Rodney starts fiddling with. Not to begin with, anyway. The trick is to mess things up just enough that he can put them back together again, and just enough so he can get in the room quickly, even though the normal method of opening the door will be non-operational. And then the trick is to get incredibly annoyed with the door, with the city, with technology in general, with people messing it up. It is not difficult. All he needs to think about is the number of requests to ‘fix my computer please’ he’s had, even from people who knew the difference between the desktop and the tabletop.

Which leads to cursing and complaining. Especially when fear is driving the good ship McKay.

Which is how the five men find him, the two in front not drawing their weapons, but the three behind concealing theirs. Not that Rodney can tell. He’s too busy looking at the door panel and growling. That he’s growling about people who don’t know the difference between a modem port, an ethernet port, a serial port and a floppy disc drive isn’t evident to them, either, but Rodney has a tendency to complain to great extremes, even about things not necessarily connected with the current situation by anything but his logic.

“Doctor McKay. Is there a problem?”

“Yes there’s a problem,” he snaps without turning around, the tone superior enough that all but Elizabeth, Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, Zelenka, Carter and Kolya would be cowed. Worryingly, the list of exceptions is much longer these days. “A problem I would willingly explain to you in detail if you had the slightest chance of understanding both the problem and what I was saying. Now if you don’t mind, I’m busy.”

This somewhat flummoxes the lead man, who steps up and takes Rodney’s right elbow. “Doctor McKay. Please come with me. This area is not safe.”

“I **know** it isn’t safe and it won’t **be** safe until you let me get on with my work in peace. What, exactly, are you doing out anyway? How are you trained to deal with this better than me? _Five_ of you, just to harass someone who actually knows what they are doing, right **now**.” Which is Rodney over-stress for please-god-stun-them-all-please-they-have-weapons-drawn. And at least one of them is looking very confused.

Please god don’t let them be mind readers. Please, please, please. The confused one at the back is clearly wondering where Kolya is, and Rodney tries so hard to think about internet explorer. Internet explorer. Spyware. Adware. The annoying paperclip. _Not not not thinking Kolya PLEASE now help me_ and studiously ignoring the door he’s behind, which the man is looking at anyway...

Though Kolya can’t see any of this, he can hear it, and he has no intention of prolonging this particular moment. Oh no. He takes a quick, centring breath, grip tightening on the zat in each hand, before bursting out through the door in front of him.

One of the men is watching said door, and tries to bring his weapon up to fire as soon as the first bout of movement becomes obvious. Kolya is way ahead of him in the readiness stakes, however, and a searing volley of zat-fire cuts the air at once, the electric whine resonating in the corridor as the bolt strikes home.

But as target number one crumples, targets two through five start reacting. The man still holding onto Rodney takes the opportunity to push him into the wall, whilst the third soldier raises his gun, pointing it at Kolya.

And Kolya – about to shoot at his own next target – suddenly switches attack plans, sidestepping to seize the nearest man and drag him right in between himself and the third soldier – who then fires, before he has a chance to process what Kolya’s just done. The bullet smashes into the man held between them, dragging a sharp cry from his lips as he falls, blood blossoming onto his chest.

Possibly not the best way this could have developed. Ah well. Refusing to be distracted – and still facing three opponents – Kolya swings sideways to stun another of them as fast as he can, before turning his aim on the two remaining men – one of whom is holding Rodney and looking particularly dangerous all of a sudden.

The movement is fast and sudden, and the unexpected brusque treatment more or less ruins any chance of Rodney’s Plan A (somehow miraculously become a combat genius and kung-fu and/or shoot everyone, saving both him, Kolya, and eventually the whole city) as well as his Plan B (duck into the room he was ‘working’ on, turn out all the lights and hope that Kolya – being one person and therefore a less sizeable target, as well as working in a bunker most of the time – would be able to overpower them all).

This is not what happens.

“Drop your weapons,” says the man still pinning Rodney into the wall with one hand on his chest. The second man keeps his gun trained on Kolya. He doesn’t speak. He’s too busy watching Kolya.

“Drop your weapons, or I will shoot Doctor McKay,” the man elaborates, very deliberately cocking his gun and turning to press it into Rodney’s temple. Or, he would have pressed it into his temple, if Rodney hadn’t chosen that moment to shoot his own gun. His own **holstered** gun.

The bullet impacts with the floor, ricocheting and scraping the ankle of the man currently trying to threaten the Canadian. Rodney flings his hands up over his head and cringes into the wall, certain he’s going to have his brains blown out. The man _does_ shoot, but it misses by mere inches, making Rodney panic even more, certain he _has_ just had his brains blown out.

The second man, unnerved and already on edge, starts trying to fire immediately – in Kolya’s general direction.

It was possibly not the best tactical move ever seen. Nor would it make its way into any tactical guidelines. It has, however, broken the standoff.

Kolya has an innate disliking of hostage situations, for a number of reasons – some of which he won’t talk about – so the soldier’s demand does not come as a welcome one, despite being rather predictable. Exactly what response Kolya might have made would be both interesting and worrying to learn – but fate, it seems, wants a different chain of events.

For a second, though, there’s a _distinct_ look in his eyes, and it doesn’t take much to read it. That look can be translated, quite simply, as ‘get the hell away from my boyfriend, bitch.’ Although there is no way Kolya would ever phrase it like that, of course.

And then there’s gunfire, and it’s _Rodney_ , and that’s a diversion Kolya would never have considered. It does, however, offer the few seconds he needs – so, moving immediately to avoid being shot by the second man, Kolya sidesteps, both weapons swinging to hold their aim. The enemy fire misses him by what would be an alarmingly close margin, to anyone taking long enough to consider it. But Kolya barely does. He has a much better solution.

Another pair of vivid zat-bolts cut the air now, smashing into their target just before he can attempt a second round of gunfire himself. The odds finally much more satisfactory, Kolya turns his attention to the last man, who is currently trying to shoot Rodney.

And that is NOT acceptable. Suddenly deciding he wants more out of this than just five incapacitated opponents, Kolya moves as if to fire, drawing the last man’s attention away from Rodney for a second, and – as the man shoots in Kolya’s direction – the commander drops, lunges, and drags his target to the ground.

The scuffle lasts no more than five seconds. When it’s over, the man is pinned to the floor, with Kolya all but kneeling on his chest, one zat pressed nigh-on smugly into the centre of the man’s forehead.

“Rodney,” Kolya says, though he does not look away from his opponent’s eyes. “Are you all right?”

There is a rather hot hole in Rodney’s gun holster. He can feel it against his leg. He can also feel his knuckles sore from close proximity to speeding bullets. Then he peeks from between his hands, and does a quick hand-check to make sure he’s not bleeding fatally from a head wound, or one anywhere, including parts that are rather important to him but hardly likely to have been endangered.

“Nothing appears to be missing, bleeding or broken,” he replies, somewhat shortly. “Although I might be deaf.” Somewhat loudly, too.

He looks at all the people strewn around and gingerly steps closer – but not close enough to be kicked by the pinned man. He’s no idiot. He quickly disarms all of the attackers, in case they wake up and decide to carry on playing.

“Good,” Kolya replies, still not looking away from the eyes of his prisoner. He spins the zat he _isn’t_ pressing to said man’s forehead, offering it back to Rodney. “You should take this again. If nothing else, I will be needing a free hand.”

Which sounds ominous, of course. And although Kolya does not want to sound ominous to Rodney, he needs to sound ominous to the captured soldier. As a result... well. One has to make sacrifices.

The man under Kolya does not look happy. Rodney scowls. He would be much happier there instead, but it isn’t going to happen right now. So he kicks the man in the shoulder. He does not cry, or whimper, but simply draws a sharp breath as the foot hits him.

“Next time, I am **really** not being the diversion.”

“You are an excellent diversion,” the commander insists. “Very diverting.”

Not now, Acastus. Focus.

But when Kolya makes himself focus, he really focuses. He leans in slightly closer to the soldier, a dangerous look flashing suddenly in his eyes. “Now. You and I are going to have a very brisk conversation, which can go one of two ways. Either you answer my questions, or you find out what happens when people _do not_ answer my questions. And that, I promise you, you will not enjoy.”

There’s another part to this, which he refrains from saying – namely, that if forced to do this in front of Rodney, Kolya’s going to be even more irritable than usual. And that is very, very not good. High-speed interrogation is bad enough. High-speed interrogation in front of the one person who he’d rather not have watching is worse.

Rodney takes the zat with a little reluctance, trying to remember exactly how long between you have to leave zat blasts in case they kill you. It would be much better to lock them in somewhere. With extreme reluctance, whilst Kolya is talking, he drops down at the side of the man covered in blood, fingers feeling for a pulse that isn’t there.

That knocks him a little sick. He can’t remember actually ever having to do this. Everyone who died so far died. No question. He feels a little harder for a pulse, looks down over the man’s bloodied and torn chest. No movement. Two more stunned. One... caught two zat blasts. He opens the room Kolya was hiding in, and starts to pull them in. This is not just avoiding whatever Kolya is doing – which he’s fairly sure he doesn’t want to know about. This is respect for the dead.

The other two men, Rodney pulls into the room he was working on, then jams the door.

Silent. And then he’s back and standing a little behind Kolya, looking at the man who tried to shoot him. His expression is haunted. Regretful. Two men dead, and he doesn’t even know if they were the people he vaguely recognises as one of those brought on the _Daedalus_ or not. It is possibly one of the longest silences of Rodney’s life. Lips pressed together hard, he has a zat in one hand, a handgun in the other. And one in his wonky holster. And several others pushed against the wall.

He catches the supine man’s eyes. He’s silent, but he’s silently trying to ask him why. Why. And who he is. And won’t he just give in?

The man does not look at him long.

“They could be telepathic,” Rodney says at last, as a warning. “We should be careful.”

Kolya is half-aware of what Rodney is doing – and he agrees with the action entirely, though possibly for some different reasons – but he doesn’t move, staying on top of the pinned soldier with a nastily resolute look in his eyes. It’s been a long time since he had to conduct an interrogation in the field, and the challenge would be rather welcome, were the situation different.

“They could indeed be telepathic,” he says to Rodney. “And if they are, then this one knows everything I have said to him was _entirely_ serious.”

Very, very serious. Keeping eye-contact with his prisoner, Kolya shifts position just slightly, and it is obvious why. His left hand drops to hip-height, fingers closing around the hilt of his knife – which he then draws, choosing a brisk movement as opposed to the slower, more drawn-out option.

Interrogation _is_ an art, oh yes, and Kolya treats it like one.

“He also knows,” the commander goes on, still very deliberately addressing Rodney, “that I don’t have long. And that I can quite easily do away with him and find someone else to question.”

Kolya runs the blade up the soldier’s pinned arm, firmly enough to tug at his clothing, but not yet enough to cut him. “Now. I want to know _exactly_ what is going on in this city. Who are you, and who is in charge here?”

The pinned man’s eyes never leave Kolya, either. He is firm. He is not one to back down. He is not, however, unfeeling, and only a few people ever manage to completely control their expressions. There’s almost always a flicker, before the mind takes control. A flicker from when _older_ parts of the brain are in control. His lips press together.

“There is no point in questioning me,” the man says, in a fairly level voice. “We all know only what we need to know. I am here under orders.”

He lets his head fall back, staring at the ceiling. “You are wasting your time asking me. I have nothing to tell you. We are close to a teleporter, and others will be coming very soon.”

Behind, Rodney frets. Silent fretting in a way you don’t need to hear to know it is happening. He’s not entirely sure he wants to be here. “Are you... are you really Sergeant... Davis?” he asks, suddenly, looking at the badge on the man’s uniform. “Are you... inside his body, or are you a replica, or a hallucination or... or what?”

The faintest smile crosses Kolya’s face, but it is far from being a pleasant expression. “There is always something to learn from everyone,” he says. “Even the most unimportant underlings—” – and perhaps this is said in deliberate provocation, perhaps just an observation – “—have relevant secrets to reveal.” Pause.

“I do not like wasting my time,” the commander goes on, jabbing his knife closer to the man’s arm, “so I suggest you tell me what I want to know. Otherwise I will take you out of the equation and wait for these supposed reinforcements. Perhaps one of them will be more co-operative. But if you’d prefer to get out of this alive, and free of an _exceptional_ amount of pain, I suggest you start by answering Doctor McKay’s question.”

“Yes,” the man says to Rodney, hardly breaking his stride at all. He’s tensing a little bit, but clearly trying to fight it, knowing that it would hurt more. “I am merely borrowing his body for the moment.”

If it is a lie, it is a good one. It’s impossible to say, either way.

“How do we get you out?” Rodney asks, again, not exactly one for patience or protocol. Not that they teach people interrogation for jobs like this. They barely teach them interrogation resistance.

“I need to be by the Stargate, or I cannot leave,” he replies. “It is how we move.” Again. Impeccable.

Kolya looks sceptical. Whether he actually _is_ would be difficult to know, but it’s a common response to being told things he doesn’t particularly want to hear. Considering how often people lie – even under threats – it is remarkable how frequently those unwanted responses become more favourable with a little extra pressure.

“I find that all overly convenient,” the commander states. “And as such, I do not believe you.”

The pause after this declaration is brief, allowing just enough time for the words to settle in before Kolya rakes the blade of his knife across the man’s upper arm. He keeps the cut fairly light to begin with, and fairly quick – no sense in over-doing it. Not yet, anyway.

“Now,” the commander goes on, tone completely emotionless, “I will ask you again: who are you and what is going on in the city?”

It’s more the shock of it, and being suddenly tense, and expecting much, much worse that makes the man jump. Which he does. A little. A frown crosses his forehead.

“We mean you no harm. We are merely... explorers, seeking technology. When we have finished, we will leave, and no one will be harmed if we can help it.”

He bites his lip. The information is somewhat difficult to give. “Your people invited us here.”

Rodney shakes his head and his hands at once. “What technology? Do you mean Ancient technology? Weapons, defence, medical knowledge... what?”

The ‘soldier’, however, is paying much more attention to Kolya. Rodney is not a threat. Not an apparent one, at least.

“Invited or not, you have invaded Atlantis,” Kolya states. “And though you say you do not wish to harm anyone, I watched you attempt to kill Doctor McKay mere moments ago.” He looks remarkably dangerous whilst making this statement, which is understandable, all things considered. “So do forgive me if I have trouble believing you.”

Then he pauses, playing the blade over the light wound, obviously contemplating the impulse to create another. “How many of your people are here?” he goes on. “And, as the doctor asked, what, precisely, are they here to appropriate?”

If this gets any more reminiscent of... the things it is reminiscent of, Kolya is not likely to be happy about it. He already looks very not happy about it – though that could be as much for effect as out of genuine response, of course.

“You were asked to go to your room,” the soldier points out, in the tone of one who thinks his opinion is the only reasonable one to hold, “If you had done as we asked, there would be no need to detain you.” And you drew your gun before I pointed mine. Although he does not say this. “Violence is our last option. I would not have shot Doctor McKay unless there was no alternative. And you had already killed two of my men.”

So many questions. So little time. “Several hundred.” Which, again, may or may not be the truth. “I don’t know specifically what technology. Although I would imagine it would be anything that our scientists find useful.”

He swallows, then turns his head just slightly to the side, breathing fast and shallow. His eyes blink slow, then fast, then slow.

Rodney has nothing more to ask. Or he does, but he doesn’t want to. The whole situation is painful, and it’s hard to remember what he needs to know. Instead, he closes his eyes, head dropped a little. Far too painful.

“Do you always shoot to kill when people do not do as you ask?” Kolya goes on – and oh, now _that’s_ a line he has **no** right to deliver so levelly, given his own track record.

“If I have to, yes.” There is no shame in that. It is the truth.

Several hundred. This does not make Kolya happy, because it is either true, and therefore troublesome, or it is a lie, and he does not like being lied to. Furthermore, this lack of specifics is also not making him any less aggressive. His grip tightens on the knife again, mere seconds before he rakes it across the man’s arm once more – right over the previous wound. Which is really, really going to hurt.

“If you expect to get out of this alive, you had better give me more specifics,” he growls. “How many of your people are in the Atlantean Gateroom, and which other parts of the city are your teams heading for?”

Some would call this overdoing it. Some would call it being thorough. Kolya would merely call it good practice. In several senses of the word.

The man who looks like Davis tilts his head back into the floor, jamming his teeth together to prevent anything more than a quiet grunt escaping as Kolya does that with his knife. His eyes sting a little, and he breathes harder until he can talk.

“Several... those... co-ordinating the harvest are in the Gateroom. Teams of our scientists are in laboratories, research posts, places of scientific interest… whilst security patrols the city. I cannot tell you precisely where. They monitor that, and they have moved since I was in contact. Which is very likely.”

“How can we get you to leave us alone?” Rodney demands, arms folded across his chest now, trying to look defiant.

Kolya’s own expression now blends to something nigh-on murderous, and though he keeps the blade still for the moment, he looks ready to use it somewhere more terminal than not-Davis’ arm.

“Now,” he says, “you will answer Doctor McKay’s question, and then you will tell me who your leader is. And if the next words out of your mouth are not specific, productive, and very, very clear about how to get _every one_ of your people out of this city, I promise you, I will do things with this knife that you would not be able to forget, were you alive long enough to remember them.”

He looks deathly serious. Which would be because he is.

“Our leader is currently your Colonel Sheppard. He is working with your Elizabeth Weir.” He looks tired now. Drained. His face is pale, and his fingers cold.

“They will not leave until they have what they came for. You can help them, if you want your city and your people back, sooner. If you fight, they will only send more.”

And – by chance, perhaps – they come.

Rodney, not wanting to watch what comes next, fiddles with the lifesigns detector. And then he goes pale too. “Oh. Oh. That... that is not good. We have more people coming. Heading directly our way. We’re going to have to make a run for it, before they corner us in.”

The pinned man smiles thinly. “I told you they would come.”

This is unfortunate. Kolya would prefer a little more time to finish matters, but once more, fate appears to have other ideas. And now, he finds himself facing a difficult decision: what, exactly, to do with his prisoner. Bringing the man along is out of the question, but he doesn’t want to leave him able to report to his superiors.

In most other situations, the man would already be dead. Kolya pauses for a fleeting instant, silently considering whether or not this individual is, as he claims, ‘borrowing’ the body of Davis – or if that was a lie. Kolya is nigh-on certain that the man is lying to him somehow, but he doesn’t have time to work out for sure if one of those lies would cover whether or not this man is an Atlantean, or an alien.

Kolya has been doing this for a long time, and he has a very good track record when it comes to making split-second decisions... but that does not mean they are easy to make. When he makes this one, he knows it is not going to be without fallout.

“And I told you I wanted something more productive,” he says, expression completely blank.

The blade moves fast. One moment it is still beside the soldier’s arm – and the next, Kolya is driving it briskly into the man’s chest.

Whether the man was human or not, possessed, duplicated, impersonated... he dies the way all men die. Not that Rodney has seen anyone die like this. Not really. Drained of life, then self-shot, blown up, decompression, gunfire... many ways.

But he hasn’t seen Kolya kill.

Rodney simply stands. Movement is forgotten for the moment, his hands clutching the tracking device to his chest. Protectively, almost.

The blips on the screen are coming. But he seems to have forgotten. Such a strange noise people make, when they die. No matter how hard they try not to in life, in death it’s often another matter entirely.

Lingering would be a bad idea, now – for a great many reasons, several of them not remotely connected to the need to be elsewhere before those newcomers turn up – and Kolya doesn’t let himself consider it. He pulls back, wrenching the knife free, and instinctively dragging it over the dead man’s shirt, to get most of the blood off the blade.

Ironically, blood is not good for knives.

Then he stands, slipping the weapon back into its sheath, staring down at the soldier for little more than a second before he finally turns to look at Rodney. Only then does he realise that they haven’t made eye-contact for several minutes now, and the expression in Rodney’s eyes is hardly one he wanted to provoke.

But no time to worry about that. Not yet. He moves closer to the doctor, hand up to tug on his shoulder. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”

It takes a moment or two for words to penetrate the stasis, but then they do, and Rodney looks up before he even thinks about concealing how he feels. Something he doesn’t often do, anyway. But sometimes.

Like, now would have been helpful.

“Yes… yes of course. This way. I think we can get into the maintenance. It’s redundant and sealed-off, but... yes...”

But, the only way. Rodney picks up one of the guns kicked to the side, safety-catches, then pushes it in the waistband at the back of his trousers. Just in case.

“Lead on,” Kolya says, transferring his zat back to his left hand so he can shoot easily, if they run into anyone. He seems somewhat removed – though not in a distanced-from-reality way. This is the kind of removed which comes about from being able to kill like that, and vice-versa.

And as they start moving, that disaffected look in his eyes hides a lot. Part of him knows he needs to retreat, to get out of the corridor, to protect Rodney. But he can feel the blood pounding in his ears, the ease of it all pulling him back.

Part of him wants to stop. Turn. Wait. And when those soldiers come into view, to open fire on them.

It’s a hard urge to resist... but he does. So far.

Rodney, gun in his pants, gun in his now-altered holster, zat in one hand, device in the other. All he’s missing now is a strip of fabric tied around his head, or fedora, or dirty white vest and no socks. Or something. And all he can think about is ventilation shafts, rotating fans, dripping water and electric cabling. Hoses. Chains.

It isn’t as exciting when you’re there yourself.

Rodney doesn’t speak as he walks, glancing occasionally at the pad and frowning at what it tells him. He clucks his tongue in frustration, leading them down ever faster, sharper corners following a seemingly random route. Part of that is intentional. Unplanned movements are harder to predict.

Then, he stops. “Give me your knife,” Rodney says, holding out the datapad for Kolya to take.

Kolya merely follows, staying close to the doctor’s side, constantly checking around them even though he knows Rodney has the lifesigns detector. The stop is abrupt, but his mind is currently going too fast for much to seem overly quick in comparison.

And oh. Because _this_ isn’t reminiscent of certain past events. Though it had been Pranos’ knife that time. Another of those lost in the struggle against Atlantis... the very city Kolya is now risking his life to save.

The universe really does have a taste for bitter irony.

There’s no hesitation this time, though; no odd, amused looks or pauses for explanation. This time, Kolya reaches for his knife at once, the hilt still warm and eternally familiar. He draws it, twists it lightly in his hand, and offers it to Rodney, watching his eyes all the time. 

When Rodney is working, the external world gets left behind. So do people, usually, when he pushes their chairs out of the way to get at the monitors they are sitting in front of, or standing between him and the solution. Normal rules of conduct – not his strongpoint at the best of times – simply fly out the window.

He turns immediately to the wall, sticks the knife in what looks like nothing more than the pattern of the wall. For a minute, anyway, before Rodney’s levering off a huge panel, peering at a small row of dull and obviously dead buttons. He swears, jams the knife in again and levers _that_ panel off. Behind is a technical nightmare. He feels along with his fingertips, pushing down on a flat crystal when he’s satisfied, then another, and he pulls them out and swaps them around. He fits the button panel back on, and half of them glow darkly. He punches in a quick code. Swears. Punches in another. Another light goes on, and then the knife is held back, hilt first, expecting it to be taken so he can hammer on a square of what is clearly some kind of hatch or door with the heels of his hand, until it finally opens with a depressed sigh.

“The air is likely to be horrible. These hadn’t been used in hundreds of years even when the city was first abandoned. We need to get in, and pull the panel behind us if we can.”

Whilst Rodney works, Kolya keeps watch, his gaze darting from the lifesigns detector to the corridor, and back again, expression hyper-alert. It’s probably a good job that Rodney hasn’t got around to introducing the commander to caffeine yet.

Eventually the hatch opens, and Kolya immediately looks back to Rodney, taking the proffered knife at once. “Maintenance shafts,” he says. “I assume we can use these to move around the city?”

In between talking, however, he starts to climb inside. No sense in waiting, after all.

“Yes. In theory. The records and scans haven’t shown any blocks, but there might be some. I’m hoping we can just come out somewhere they aren’t expecting us. And also that they don’t know how to track us... I might be able to stop them tracking us, but it would require us...” then his fingers click. “Yes. Yes. That would work.” He clambers in, trying to pull the panels back in. “Let me past. I’ll lead.”

The maintenance duct is hardly the sort of place one wants to be, but if it prevents them being located for longer, it will be worth it. Kolya moves back against the far side so that Rodney can move in front of him, to lead the way.

Even though the hatch appears closed again, Kolya does not want to take his attention off it - because if anyone tries to come after them, he has every intention of being in place to blow the person’s head off, first.

And by ‘blow off,’ he does of course mean ‘stun.’ Honestly.

“If,” Rodney says, in the whisper of someone who wants to be quiet but doesn’t know how, “we can get to one of the research stations that isn’t too well-guarded and close, I might be able to cloak us.”

Clunk clunk clunk. Hiss. This is so not good for his back. Or his knees. Or his hands.

“I just have to hope they haven’t...” clunk, “stolen what I’m looking for...”

“Cloak us?” Kolya repeats, clearly interested at once. “How?”

Now that would be a remarkable tool of combat – to walk right up to your enemy without being spotted, before promptly taking them out. It would, of course, remove a great deal of the challenge. But then, that’s what the duelling is for.

It’s something he considers as they proceed somewhat uncomfortably through the duct – which, not surprisingly, is cold. Why are they always cold?

“Complicated technical reasons,” Rodney says, as he carries on crawling. The air in here is very stale. Wonderful. It’s difficult to explain this to someone not conversant in either Ancient or Terran technology.

“It’s an idea I had. Well. Radek and I. It isn’t like the puddlejumper’s cloak, because we don’t have any units small enough – or energy sources small enough, for that matter – to make a completely sight-functional personal cloak. Even the Ancients hadn’t worked on that yet, but their level of combat didn’t require one...” Clunk. A corner turned.

“It would, however, render us more or less invisible to the city’s own scanners. If I can make it work. Again, it’s not something the Ancients developed, because the intrigue amongst themselves was minimal in this galaxy, so they had no need to cloak themselves from themselves, and the only work done on it was to prevent it from happening.”

A junction, and one that slopes slightly. Great. “I’ll have to access the sensors, too, and hope they haven’t blocked me out with any skill. If I can, I’ll do it without them knowing, so they won’t know how we’ve disappeared. And then we can move without being tracked by anything other than sentient agency. Assuming I can get to the lab, access the mainframe undetected, put the necessary blocks into play and _then_ get the cloak to work. And assuming we don’t get discovered before we do it, either. But other than that, the plan is wonderful.”

The technobabble goes over Kolya’s head somewhat, but it helps to know that Rodney is focused. And considering that there’s little Kolya can do, other than stop anyone trying to kill the good doctor, his best option is to go along with Rodney’s plan. He listens, though, attempting to take everything in, because all information is of potential use.

“Once we can move undetected, we will need to find out exactly what we are facing,” Kolya remarks. “I do not entirely trust what we were just told.”

Which he doesn’t. A little more time would really have helped.

“And… you want to find this out, how?”

The incline gets steeper. Rodney yelps as he slips and more or less slides down the shaft, scraping knuckles and knees and landing with a dull thud, some thirty feet later.

“...ow.”

Wonderful. _Sloping_ ducts. Kolya tries to keep his balance, but eventually, a combination of gradient and smooth metal makes it impossible – and before he knows it, he’s sliding right after Rodney.

And landing on him.

“Are you all right?” Kolya asks, trying to pull himself off the doctor in an unhelpfully small space.

Rodney flails. Whilst stuck in a ventilation shaft and heavily armed, attempting to stealth around in ducts, falling and having others fall on you is a) unstealthy and b) very damn painful and almost lethal.

“Yes,” he snaps, “although possibly very nearly rendered impotent and/or dead. Who designs these things?”

He flips over so he can see the screen again, then tilts the screen. “We need to get there, relatively quietly, attempt to get through the sealed vent, and then enter this room...” point, “and immobilise everyone.”

He does not ask for small things.

“The Ancients, I assume,” Kolya replies, dryly, rocking back against the side of the duct and staring up the shaft they just fell down. It reminds him somewhat of a training exercise he was involved in, many years ago... and along with that come some less-welcome flashbacks, which he mentally pushes aside to avoid distraction.

It’s been some time since he thought about all that. And he’s not thinking about it again.

When Rodney starts examining the lifesigns detector, however, Kolya watches carefully, following the route from where they are to the room in question. He nods, seemingly calmly. “That should be workable,” he says.

“Right. Do you think we should just go as fast as possible, so they aren’t prepared, or try to find some way in they won’t expect? Which wouldn’t be simple, really. I’m just a bit wary of charging in when they could have all their guns directed at us.”

“The element of surprise would be preferable,” Kolya says. “Our last encounter with a group of them was unhelpfully chaotic.” And you almost got killed.

“Okay.” Rodney squints at it again, getting an idea of how many, where, doing what – as much as you can from a pac-man screen with no mouths.

“You first? Well, I would go first but I haven’t had as much practice at this and I’m usually saving the world by using technology and not weapons...”

“Oh, I will be going in first,” Kolya agrees at once. No question of that. “But it would help if we had something to tip the odds in our favour.”

He watches the screen carefully, trying to etch the image into his mind. If he doesn’t have to focus on location so much, it will leave more mental room to concentrate on shooting people.

“We could always cross the streams,” Rodney says, without thinking. And not seriously. Crossing zat streams would be bad.

Unless...

“Wait. We have… Okay. We have more than one zat gun. What if we covered our eyes, shot out the lights, then blind them completely with crossed zat-fire and then shoot like mad round the door? Because if you want anything more distracting than that, the only suggestion I have is declaring ourselves the Spanish Inquisition. Which never works.”

Kolya is not entirely sure what a Spanish Inquisition is, though having once been part of a short-lived Genii Inquisition, he wonders if the two might be similar. But he can see why something like that would not help here - albeit for _entirely_ different reasons to those currently in Rodney’s mind.

The suggestion, on the other hand, is a pleasingly clever one – and certainly easier than anything he had been considering. He nods. “That sounds workable,” he agrees. “If we do it quickly, we should be able to clear the room without too much difficulty.”

People agreeing with his tactical plans always floors Rodney a little. Somehow, he was expecting a critique. “Oh. Right. Yes. Of course. We should... well, we should get ready, then,” he says, rubbing a hand over his hair. Even though he isn’t entirely sure why.

“We have to get that plate off first. I think if we use enough force it will give quickly. We could even use the plate as a kind of shield...”

At this, Kolya gives Rodney a look that might actually have a wry smile behind it. “You’re going to find a way to work footwear into this,” he says, with a nigh-on nostalgic tone. “I just know it.”

Only a man like Kolya could sound _nostalgic_ talking about the Planet, especially whilst in a maintenance duct preparing to storm a room full of hostiles.

Rodney pouts. “When I have projectile weaponry and superior technology, footwear is only an accessory,” he declares. “Unless you want to kick your way to freedom.”

“As entertaining as that might be, I would prefer to shoot my way instead,” Kolya replies, levelly.

“Now,” he goes on, glancing over at the map again. “You know the area best. How exactly do you think we should play this?”

“I’m not sure if they can track us in here, which is another reason I chose this way. even if they can track us, I doubt they will work out where _exactly_ we are. We want to come out _there_ ,” he says, pointing first on the pad, then to the way. 

“It shouldn’t be too high from the ground. Then we want to come at this door... at this angle... there’s a large bulkhead that will provide some cover, and all the stuff they will be messing with is over here, so we should get a good line of fire. I’ll aim for the lights, and if they don’t go out with shooting, I’ll try to override the power here...”

Which sounds complicated. Because it is.

Kolya pays careful attention, silently evaluating the plan as he goes. “All right,” he agrees, finally. “I’ll shoot from here, and you from there, so you can be closer to the best cover.”

It sounds perfect. Seize the element of surprise, disorient the targets by taking out the lights, and then take them down in the confusion. But nevertheless, Kolya can feel the universe thinking up ways to make this difficult.

“So.” Delaying now. And in an inappropriate place. Hard on the knees and the back.

“We need to take down the panel.”

With another pause. Because Rodney isn’t quite sure what he’s waiting to say. Or, for the moment to be broken so he pretend he doesn’t feel the need to. He looks down again, then starts fiddling with his second gun.

The hesitation isn’t hard to spot, but Kolya doesn’t mention it. Whether this is him being tactful or being occupied with other thoughts would be hard to say.

“Knife again?” he asks, calmly.

“...” Cue thought process. “Yes. I don’t really want to rip my fingertips to shreds.”

Unblinking, Kolya draws the blade again, spins it lightly, and offers Rodney the hilt.

At this point, one might want to ask why he doesn’t simply lever the hatch out himself – but, as ever, the answer would be more complicated than it seems.

Rodney nods a brusque thanks, then chews his lip. It’s harder to lever the panel out from this side, and his muffled curses are testimony. He shuffles closer, hunched over the panel, and tries to throw his upper body weight into the gesture... which is when he slips and the blade runs too far and into his fingertip.

Rodney yelps.

“Mmmmmnf!” he says, around the finger immediately pushed into his mouth. It is not a happy sound. One foot kicks the floor. “Gmmmmmmnrr.” He flat-palms the panel in annoyance, and it promptly clatters to the floor. If anything, Rodney’s face gets darker. He growls.

Kolya merely watches all this in silence, not saying anything because he knows it would not be productive. And if his eyes flicker as a single smudge of Rodney McKay’s blood marks his blade for the first time... well. Possibly best not to ask about that.

He does, however, tighten his grip on the zat still held in one hand – because if anyone heard that panel clatter down, he wants to be ready to shoot them the moment they come running.

Rodney frowns, then wipes the blade clean with his sleeve. He hands it back to Kolya without turning. With something slightly less than grace, Rodney jumps the small distance down and looks both ways. No one immediately there. He stoops to pick up the infernal panel, trying to get hold of it in a way that stops him being shot and yet allows him to shoot. Then he turns.

“Ready?”

He still hasn’t entirely learned the ‘silence in the field’ rule.

Still holding the knife, Kolya raises his hand in a ‘you-should-really-be-quiet’ kind of way, before looking carefully out of the hatch. Satisfied that they are not about to be attacked, he slips the blade back into its sheath once more, turning to drop nigh-on silently to the ground.

And there’s the door. So this would be it. Round... whatever number they’re up to. Not that it matters a great deal, naturally.

Kolya nods in response to the question, raising his zat as they move towards the doorway.

It’s hard to hold the panel whilst your finger is still bleeding rather vigorously. Rodney tries to staunch it by pressing down hard and ignoring the way the cold metal really _hurts_ before it numbs.

It’s amazing how something as minor as that can affect you so terribly in situations like this. At least it isn’t his trigger finger.

And then... Rodney counts down with his fingers. Three. Two. One. Move, aim, fire.

The door sweeps open, revealing a fairly large room containing several targets. Though usually one to pay careful attention to the layout of a combat situation and the positioning of enemy soldiers, Kolya now keeps his focus on the plan in hand – namely, to shoot madly in all directions in order to blanket the hostiles with zat fire.

The air fills with the vivid electric whine of every zat-bolt as they blanket the room with fast-paced blue light. It’s certainly more _noticeable_ than using bullets.

Of course, if you fire on a room full of people intent on stealing what they can from you, they fire back. Belatedly Rodney realises that _gun_ fire and scientific equipment does not go. And likely neither does zatfire and scientific equipment.

But that’s the point. At least, that’s the point of him aiming, covering his eyes, yelling “NOW!” at Kolya and firing repeatedly into the lights.

A few seconds later, and when he opens his eyes, the room is dark and filled with panicky fire. Sliding the panel over the doorway, he steps behind it and zats furiously, not planning on stopping until they don’t fire back, the zat explodes, he gets accidentally shot or the universe stops existing.

Which means, of course, that he starts to yell. “AAAAAAAAAAA!”

Kolya would probably be smirking if he wasn’t concentrating - because the Rodney McKay Battle Cry really is something. Thankfully, the good doctor is achieving more than an impressive decibel level, evidenced by the sudden flash as the lights explode, plunging the room into darkness.

Perfect.

With the plan proceeding exactly as intended, Kolya ups the pace – his attention more focused on what he can hear inside the room, above the continual whine of the zat-fire. Any sign of movement, and he’s shooting in the relevant direction at once.

This is _really_ making him feel better.

It is, of course, not making Rodney feel better at all. Out of 0-10 in the Rodney McKay Satisfaction Scale, this has to rate at -20. If not more.

Eventually most of the noise dies down. And if there is anyone left sensate, they aren’t moving. Rodney stops firing, then looks over at Kolya. “Okay. That seems to have worked.”

Kolya ceases fire, but does not yet drop his aim, keeping the zat levelled at the room in general – ready to shoot again should anyone move. He glances sideways at Rodney, just for a second. “Indeed it does.”

And it does. He continues to stare into the darkness, expression alert, now wondering how best to proceed from here. If nothing else, he’d like the chance to question a second hostile, in the hope of building up a better picture of what exactly is going on.

Rodney has a light on him. Not a very big one, admittedly, but a light nonetheless. He’s taken to the whole ‘carry everything that might keep you alive’ line of thought. And also, because they might have needed it. Not that he knows how. He just thought it would be better to have one.

He finds it – a small, bright LED light – and shines it into the room. “Hello... friendly local infiltrators...”

This remark would most definitely have earned Rodney a Look, if Kolya was not focused on the room, watching to see what the lightbeam reveals. Even so, said Look-in-potentia remains in his eyes, flickering for a second before fading back – though thankfully, the word ‘potentia’ does not come into his mental foreground.

Slowly, carefully, Kolya takes a couple of steps into the darkened room, still searching it for movement. And at that point, a question finally makes its way into his mind, one that seems more relevant now. “How long do the stunning effects of this weapon last?”

“On humans? Several minutes. On whoever these people are? No idea. The ones in the corridor were out a fairly long time.”

He steps inside himself, frowning at the occupants. “What do you want to do with them?”

Kolya considers this for no more than a second. “Ideally, I would want to question at least one or two of them – but I doubt remaining here would be wise. We should search them, restrain them, and then keep going towards wherever it is that you need to be in order to cloak us.”

After speaking, he walks to the closest – and most visible – of the fallen intruders, staring down at the sprawled figure. It’s almost as if he’s daring the man to leap back up.

Rodney nods. “Do you need my help tying them up? Or should I look for what I need in here?”

“Search the area,” Kolya replies at once. “You know the technology far better than I do.”

With that said, he turns his attention to the assortment of stunned individuals, removing their weapons and tying them up more or less where they lie. But though occupied, he stays alert, constantly aware of the feeling at the back of his mind which says that something about this isn’t quite right.

And then, very suddenly, there’s a burst of movement from the far end of the room: evidently, one of the intruders managed to hide behind something in the initial commotion. The man leaps up, gun raised to open fire, even as Kolya spins around, aiming his zat as he goes.

Rodney’s idea of ‘search the area’ means mostly ‘look through the mess they made out of one of your research stations and curse loudly when you can’t find everything where it should be.’ “Just _look_ at this mess, it will take _weeks_ to get everything going again, assuming they haven’t made off with half our research already... WHY does this keep happening to me?” he asks, finding something to bind around his slightly bloodied finger, trying not to freak out about the lack of sterile dressings immediately to hand.

Which is when he finds what he’s looking for. Which is when he turns. Which is when the friendly intruder opens fire.

Which is when Rodney **yells**. You only piss off a McKay so much before they flip. “WHY WON’T YOU ALL JUST GET THE **HELL** OUT OF MY LABS?!”

Admittedly not the most helpful of actions. But a) anyone who was close enough to hear McKay yell was close enough to hear the gunfire b) Rodney has his hands full of equipment that _isn’t_ a weapon and so therefore c) has no weapon to hand.

If nothing else, it’s yet another unexpected break from conventional rules of engagement. Which is probably why no one ever seriously considers putting him on the front line for his military prowess.

Seemingly unperturbed by Rodney’s nevertheless furious-sounding yell, the man keeps moving. It’s hard to be certain why he hasn’t fired yet, given that he could probably manage a clear shot – and indeed, it’s likely that he _isn’t_ actually trying to kill the good doctor, per se.

It looks rather like he **is** , however – not that Kolya is likely to spend any time differentiating. After a couple of seconds, he starts shooting, following the arc of his target’s movement, and managing to strike home on the third attempt. The man immediately rocks sideways, stumbling and dropping, hitting the floor with a thud.

After a moment, Kolya relaxes again, letting his gun-arm drop. And glaring. At the fallen man. A lot.

“See! The universe! Always me! Why can’t I just be left alone for ONE night?”

Rodney has the device though. He holds it up. “Now if you can give me ten minutes in…” points “...that room, I can see if I can cloak us.”

Which means Rodney immediately opens the door to the room further back and flicks on the panel he needs.

“If only life was that simple.”

Though one has to wonder what a man like Kolya would _do_ if life _was_ that simple. He nods at Rodney’s next remark, knowing there’s little point in asking for specifics. What he does, instead, is to continue securing the unconscious men – starting, of course, with the one he just shot. Because vindictiveness needs plenty of outlets. 

“Oh... would you look at that? They’re trying to access everything...” tap tap tap... “and overwrite my routines... wiping data... Idiots!” Rodney’s fingers move fast when he’s working. And, right now, he’s trying to do two – three – things at once: hack into the scanning system, hide his access and modifications and prevent them from wiping the whole database. At least, the whole Terran database, as the Ancient one is slightly better protected.

Rodney’s fingers move _fast_.

“When you’re done in there, I could do with your help.”

“All right,” Kolya replies, although in truth, he’d rather be keeping an eye on the main door – and on their assortment of unconscious prisoners. He still hopes that one of the men might wake up before they go, and thereby give him another chance to find out what is _really_ going on here.

Once the last man is tied up, Kolya throws a last glance at the doorway before heading over to the back room, wondering what exactly Rodney might need his help with.

“Hold this,” he says, handing him a small device, with an elastic strap. “Press this button when I tell you to.”

Kolya takes said device, staring at it for a moment. Technology really is not his forte.

He does, however, allow himself another glance out at the still-dark room, checking for signs of movement – or new targets.

“Okay press.... press... press and hold... wait! Don’t do anything now!”

Rodney hits the panel some more, then holds his hand out for the device. Picking the other one up, he stares at Kolya’s and does something to his. Then he hands it back. It looks as though what he’s done is simple, but he would be the first to tell you it isn’t. The small devices look rather unimpressive, all in all. And nowhere near as nice as the magic turtle.

“Strap this on. We should be invisible now, unless they can smell humans or something.”

There really is no point in asking questions right now, so Kolya just lets Rodney work, doing as asked and nothing else. Beyond another glance out the door, of course.

And then he nods once more, impressed at the concept of all this. “How long will these devices last?”

“Oh... until they realise what I’ve done to the system. If they _do_ realise what I’ve done to the system. I would have liked more time but clearly I can’t have it.”

He fixes the device to his arm, then changes his mind and crouches to strap it to his leg, the one without the holster.

“So. Now?”

Attaching the other device to his right arm, Kolya glances at the door again. “You mentioned getting to your lab,” he says. “And if nothing else, we need a way to find out what is going on in the control room – because I imagine their leaders will be there.”

He considers the matter a moment longer. “In addition, we ought to decide how to play this. Cutting power to the Stargate would prevent these people leaving with your technology, but it would also leave us with the need to capture or kill all of them.”

It’s almost wrong how reminiscent of things past this is.

“We need a way...” Rodney says, already absently arming himself – more ammunition, into the pockets – “to incapacitate them all. Some... something medical, probably.”

He rubs the arm of his sleeve over his eyes. “I’m guessing you know about as much biology as me? Well, less, likely, because I did do that medical course and I obviously have to keep on top of my conditions...”

“I certainly could not tell you how to incapacitate everyone simultaneously,” Kolya concedes. As far as he’s concerned, his grasp of biology is more than sufficient. The fact that it mostly includes ways to a) kill people, b) keep people alive, and c) keep people alive at the same time as doing things that should kill them, is perhaps why he chooses not to mention it.

“Then unless the walls start giving me divine instruction, or I suddenly learn advanced alien biochemistry then we need to find another plan.”

Plan plan plot plot. His poor brain never gets any kind of rest at all. Always the end of the world. Never just deciding what to wear, or eat.

“I think we will have to shut down the Stargate. They could bring more people in, or could leave and take my people _out_... or... okay, I can’t think of a third example. But you get my point.”

Which is when Rodney remembers the lifesigns indicator. He hurriedly gets it to hand. Nada. Nothing. Not even them.

Smugly, he shows Kolya the blank screen. “Pick a door. Any door. Except the one to the canteen.”

This is a rather perplexing request, but Kolya opts to go along with it, tapping the screen almost immediately. “That one.”

Rodney nods, then looks resolutely ahead. And walks.

“You do realise I have absolutely no plan to get rid of them?” he says, as though it’s such a trivial thing. “And that they could very well know almost as much about this city as I do?” 

Kolya follows, moving to keep pace at Rodney’s side.

“To start with, we need an idea of their numbers and deployment,” the commander says. “With that information in hand, we will have a better chance of working out a strategy for dealing with them – and perhaps locating and freeing some of your people as well.”

Oh. Now. Won’t that be fun?

“We need to travel by foot, as they’ll be able to trace transporters. Doors are...”

Speak of the devil, and he will appear.

“RUN!”

He grabs at Kolya’s sleeve as he sets off at a breakneck speed, towards the doors happily closing ahead of them. Trying to lock them in. Hadn’t thought of that one. Damn.

Oh, _wonderful_.

It’s hard not to run when someone is yelling ‘run!’ at you, and dragging you along, but that doesn’t stop Kolya also trying to scan the area for targets – because shooting _whilst_ running is an entirely reasonable thing to do.

Though in all honesty, he wonders if shooting at the _doors_ would be wiser.

Rodney yelps as the doors try to bisect them both, dragging hard enough on Kolya’s arm that, if he kept it up much longer, it would likely dislocate it. Before that can happen, however, they reach the other side of the door, and Rodney’s slamming Kolya into a wall. Hard.

To make sure he’s all still there. Really. All this excitement is not good for his poor heart.

“...always with the _doors_ ,” Rodney says, suddenly realising he’s still standing far too close. And that it provokes all sorts of conflicting messages between various parts of his psyche. Or his body. Maybe both.

Complicated. He frowns.

Carries on. “We should get in the ducts. Once we do that, they’ll have no chance of finding us, unless we do something obvious like blow up the Stargate. Which is not a good plan. We have ships, but not having a Stargate would be a...”

Damn good idea. Really damn good. And why has he never thought of that before? “...when the Wraith were coming... we hid the city. It worked, they left. What if we hid the Stargate?” Oh. Sometimes his genius scares even him.

Wall-slamming. Yes. Because _that’s_ a good way to maintain focus. Kolya looks almost ready to accept the convenient spate of door-locking and join in with the slamming thing instead. It would certainly be more enjoyable.

Alas, his sense of duty sadly overrides any of those thoughts – and since when did his sense of duty cover Atlantis, anyway? – allowing him to focus more on the task in hand.

Or, more accurately, on giving Rodney a somewhat perplexed frown. “Hide the Stargate? How could we possibly do that?”

“The puddlejumper, remember? The cloak makes it invisible to the naked eye, and to scans. And if that doesn’t work, well, we could always try to move it. SG-1 were always moving Stargates. And we know some Goa’uld had them on ships, and that some here hang in orbit...”

He takes a step back, expression alternating between perplexion, problem-solving, smug, cranky and... whatever the hell it is Kolya makes him feel like, which he can’t actually describe properly. He thinks for a long moment, then the hand somewhere near the sleeve of Kolya’s elbow slips down, briefly stroking the side of his hand, before he’s moving again in the direction of the next panel. This is getting ridiculous. But will hopefully be over soon.

“We have to stop them leaving, taking anything, or getting anyone here. And once we’ve done that... something that will incapacitate them and only them. In a city like this, there _has_ to be _something_ we can do.”

“You want to cloak the Stargate using a puddlejumper... and expect your unwelcome visitors not to notice?” It really is an odd concept... and yet, Kolya’s fairly sure that there’s a plan in this, somewhere.

But that brief moment of contact from Rodney – that unexpected, yet probably deliberate slip of the hand – is incredibly helpful, incredibly welcome, and incredibly painful as well. This is not how Kolya envisaged his first official trip to Atlantis. Why the universe couldn’t have thrown him into a difficult combat situation when he was comparatively bored and unoccupied is a mystery.

“Alternatively,” he adds, mind dragged back to the task in hand, “we could do something that will incapacitate _everyone_ , but not kill them. So long as we found a way to isolate ourselves, that would also be effective.”

“They will notice” Rodney agrees. “But if we hide it properly, they won’t be able to do anything about it, and they’ll have to concentrate on finding it. Which will be the world’s biggest distraction.”

And one which doesn’t involve me being a sitting target again.

“That would work. But the city has safeguards in, so anything we do has to bypass that system.”

And then the doctor has his hand out for the knife. Because it’s duct time. Doesn’t everybody love duct time?

Realising what Rodney must be planning, Kolya goes for the knife at once, offering it to the other man without needing to say a word. There are thoughts, though, and after what’s just happened, they distract even more so.

“I assume you intend to head for the puddlejumper bay?”

“What? Oh, for the jumper drive. Yes. Although how we can do this when the room is likely to be filled with them...” He levers this panel off much faster now, now that he knows where to apply the pressure. And once he learns anything, it stays learned. The duct is open in next to no time, and he’s handing the knife back, hilt first.

“Leave that to me,” Kolya replies, with a slight smile. Although even he could end up outnumbered, and the jumper bay is one of those places that is likely to be well-guarded...

Nevertheless. Creativity can be an extremely helpful attribute. That, and an innate need to kill and/or injure a lot of people for causing all this trouble.

Taking back the knife, he waits for Rodney to clamber back into the duct system once more, preparing to follow him. Even for a man who lives in an underground bunker, these ducts really are getting tiresome.

“Once we get out of here... I’ll set the transporters going at random... and they won’t be able—” grunt, and a scramble into the duct, “to track us at all. And my knees hate us both now, just for the record. I won’t be surprised if I can’t move at all tomorrow.”

What Kolya _wants_ to say in reply to this is something along the lines of ‘don’t worry, I’m sure we can find ways to entertain you which do not require movement.’ And he is. Sure.

But what he actually says, as he climbs into the duct and replaces the hatch behind them, is “You are more resilient than you give yourself credit for.” Which, though supportive, is somewhat less fun.

“That doesn’t mean I _like_ being stiff and sore for weeks,” he calls back over his shoulder, a little more loudly than he should. “It makes me sleep all tense and then I wake up irritable and it’s a vicious cycle of pain. Pain, pain, pain. I’m going to have the _longest_ shower when we’re done.”

Clunk. Clunk clunk clunk.

Kolya smirks a little, despite Rodney being unable to see. “As am I,” he says. “Most likely at the same time.”

Which does, of course, mean exactly what it sounds like it means.

“I warn you now, amazing sex god that I am, and amazing sex as we have, I’m not exactly eighteen, and after the hours and hours this will take – if it works at all - don’t be surprised if I fail to be exactly Rambo in there, and pass out on you when we get to bed.”

Because. Well. While he’d be very, very happy to oblige, there are such things as thirty-something years, shagged-outedness, and post-world-saving fatigue.

“Give me a good twelve hours in bed, though, and I’ll stay in there as with you as long as we have soap.” Almost there. He stops abruptly, then tries to somehow turn through 180 degrees.

This is a fair point, of course. Entirely fair. But being rather out of the mood for fair points right now, Kolya would rather engage with other thoughts. And other points. And so on.

It might have been interesting to see what response he would have given, but when Rodney stops, the commander’s mind goes straight back to the problem in hand. “Where are we?” he asks.

“Near a transporter,” he says, digging out the lifesigns detector again. It shows clear for the immediately surrounding area.

He’s halfway twisted in which must be a supremely uncomfortable position. “Knife? This should be the **last** time we’re in one of these things. If all goes well, which it probably won’t.”

Kolya refrains from remarking that Rodney now appears fixated on said knife, but the thought is there, nonetheless. He draws the blade once more, offering it hilt-first. “Avoiding these ducts would indeed be welcome,” he agrees, though chooses to avoid voicing any positive remarks about being confident that things _will_ go well.

That would, alas, be on account of the ever-present flicker of doubt. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to have his squad here right now, fully armed and ready to present a _proper_ show of force.

Rodney twists back again – somewhat more limber than he usually acts, but that’s neither here nor there. He isn’t thinking about it right now. What he is thinking about is opening the damn hatch. This one is a little more awkward than the others, and it’s a minute or two before he’s hissing insults at it, and jeering when it finally gives way. Then the knife goes between his teeth, and he scrunches forwards and drops to his feet. Then he looks around.

“Clear,” he says, taking the knife from his mouth to talk.

Rodney McKay. With a knife in his teeth. If Kolya seems to take a second longer than usual before responding, this would be why.

His response is little more than movement – dropping slowly through the hatch and back into the more person-friendly parts of Atlantis. So far, no sign of anything hostile, but that doesn’t stop the commander checking all around with great care, staying close to Rodney whilst he does so.

For protective reasons. Naturally.

When things are tools to be used, Rodney can assimilate them, and it’s why he’s handing back the knife again like he’s making someone hold his coat. Then he has the pad in one hand, zat in the other. A quick glance again, and then he nods in the direction of the transporter.

Oh. Yes. This would be when he has to pull crystals out and set the transporter bunny-hopping all over the city. Which is somewhat like the procedure to temporarily stop one. Except much less fun. And it has the advantage of not making someone dizzy-sick.

“The puddlejumper bay has direct access to the Gateroom, so the ships can be flown through. If we get hold of one, and we can fly it in there... and somehow prevent people from noticing we’re flying in to hide the Stargate... At which point, I have to say, any ideas you could come up with would be helpful.” Another press, here, there, then he’s ready.

“Come in.”

Kolya follows, and he listens, and he takes all this in… and as he does, he starts to realise that he may, in fact, have a plan. A plan which will potentially give Rodney the chance to get to the Stargate.

Potentially.

He’s standing at the door to the transporter, but he chooses not to move yet. This would be because he doesn’t like the plan in his head. Doesn’t like it, but has to suggest it.

“I do have a way to distract attention from the Stargate,” he says, levelly. “Something that might give you a moment to get to it, at least. What you need, I’m afraid, is a diversion.”

It’s clear from his tone, if nothing else, that this diversion is not like Kolya’s previous diversions.

Rodney frowns at him. He isn’t always able to read voices, but when people are so blindingly obvious, even he doesn’t fail.

“What? And if this involves you hanging out the bottom of the jumper with a sub-machine gun, find a better plan.”

Actually, Kolya thinks that plan would be really rather enjoyable, but at the same time, not really _distracting_ enough. He _does_ like the idea of hanging out of a puddlejumper with high-powered weaponry, though.

“Entertaining as that might be, we will need something slightly more... distinct.”

And by distinct, he means separate. And by separate, he means, split up.

“What you need,” he goes on, “is for me to create a diversion in the control room whilst you attempt to get to the Stargate. If I can draw the attention of whoever is in there – give them something to worry about for a moment – then you might be able to do whatever you need to do before they have a chance to react.”

Rodney frowns. It’s clear the cogs are working in his head. It’s also clear parallels are being drawn – parallels he could have done without.

“I need to move the Stargate, too,” he says. “If it’s still there and they can touch it it’s no good. It needs to be moved. I can’t do that on my own – I can’t cloak it and fly the puddlejumper at the same time.”

Which is true. But he might also not be wanting to take certain risks.

Kolya looks... almost pained. Maybe. It’s hard to tell.

“There must be a way,” he says. “I don’t think we can distract everyone in the control room if both of us are in the puddlejumper.”

But he understands the not-liking-the-plan thing. A great deal.

“What... what if they _thought_ you were there. But you weren’t. While they think the Stargate isn’t there, but it is. Temporarily. I could... I could work out the holoprojection program... throw the lights, run something that looks like a virus...”

Anything. All of the ideas come out of Rodney’s mouth in a flood – ideas he hasn’t actually worked on yet, just anything that comes to mind. Because. He really, **really** does not want to save the city alone. And he really, **really** does not want to _be_ alone. Really.

“There’s too much to do! I need seven more pairs of hands! I can’t do everything at once, it’s ridiculous... I should have a small army backing me up or something... even Sheppard wouldn’t save the city alone... well, he would, but he’d prefer to have someone around to impress with his wonderful wonderfulness and I **really** cannot do the gung-ho thing if... just no. No.”

He is not going to be the city’s last defence. That position rests on other shoulders than his. Hero he might occasionally play, but actual, real-life, one man on his own? No. No way.

“ _Rodney_ ,” Kolya says, hand suddenly reaching to grasp the doctor’s arm, “I know this is hardly ideal, but we are unlikely to have _time_ for anything more complex. If we want to stop these people, it needs to be _soon_.”

He pauses, the unhappy expression in his eyes now much more obvious. “You can do this. I know you can do this.”

Besides, you’ll be in the ship. I’ll be the one they are shooting at. But Kolya doesn’t say this out loud, of course. That would hardly be wise.

“Do you have any idea how I’m supposed to fly a STARGATE around with me? I can barely fly in a straight line in SPACE. I’m going to crash and DIE, and then there will be no plan whatsoever because I’ll have done all their work for them, and then they’ll kill you too, probably everyone else, and they’ll have the whole damn city and all this will have been for _nothing_. Do you know how many people came here? How many people have already **died**? Do you?”

Yes. That would be Rodney getting hysterical. Not only does the volume rise, but so does the pitch. And the hands. They move a lot more too.

“We might as well go in there and ask them if they need any help taking whatever they want and give them all the access codes while we’re at it. It’s a stupid plan!”

“Then think of another one!” Kolya says, suddenly. It’s not quite a shout, but it’s definitely close – though he forces himself to pause at this point, taking a deep breath.

There’s something flashing in his eyes, though, and it looks rather like his need-to-kill-someone expression.

“I know you’ve lost people,” the commander goes on, more levelly now. “And you know I have lost people. But if you want to save this city, and everyone in it, you are going to have to take risks. _We_ are going to have to take risks.”

“Not going in all-guns blazing... not without some kind of protection! We have the whole city... we have kevlar!” Okay. Why didn’t he think of that before?

“We have kevlar. It’s... lightweight armour. We should wear it.”

Hello. Brain calling Rodney. Where have you been?

“There’s risks and there’s freaking stupid, and charging in when we have alternatives is not with the helpful,” Rodney goes on. “We have... flashbangs. They don’t hurt, they just deafen and blind.” And oh yes, Kolya’s had experience of those, too. The wrong side of it. Quickly moving on...

“If you use those, and time it with some mechanical diversion from me, and then they’re distracted on two sides...” But you shouldn’t go. Not at all. He should be able to yell at the bastards until they go away. Rodney is not going to suggest this plan, although it’s getting more points in its favour by the moment.

Kolya nods. “Anything useful you can get hold of would definitely be helpful.” Especially things that stop me getting shot _again_. “If I attack the control room just before you try to get in, I can probably keep them distracted for a moment or so – but not for long. So whatever you’re going to do, it will need to be quick.”

And as safe as possible. Please, please, do not get killed.

“And we will need a place to meet afterwards, because I for one want to be able to find you again quickly.”

Quick. Cloak and hide a Stargate quick. Of course. And after that, his next trick will be to make the whole damn city fly on top of a balloon inflated by tiny blind lab mice.

Rodney refrains from saying this. It is difficult. But he does.

“Do you think you can find my room again? It’s likely to be the last place they have people... and expect us to go. Well, not the last place, but the first place I can think of suggesting that isn’t fitted with ships, guns or lab materials. Or food.” Which is a point. He might have to grab a powerbar at this rate. Another one. While he was planning for exertion, he was not planning for _quite_ this much.

“I think so,” Kolya replies. “I assume I will have to get there without the transporters?”

Oh, won’t that be fun? Running around the city with hostile invaders everywhere. Why does this sound so unpleasantly _familiar_..?

Hah. Why else?

“Yes, but my room is easy to get to from the labs and control room on purpose, remember? For just situations like this... maybe I should get them to take a wall down so my room is bigger because it isn’t really very big and I’m rambling now, aren’t I?”

Rodney rubs knuckles into his eyes, making an annoyed sound. “Stores.” He looks at the map, then presses a button. Presses a button. Presses a button. Says, “We want to get out here...”

At this, Kolya actually smiles slightly. It’s a rather reserved expression, but entirely genuine nonetheless. “You are. But the first half of that point was entirely relevant.”

In all honesty, so was the second half. Though to a completely different conversation.

“The best place to get things...” Rodney says, walking them along a corridor, and opening a door like all the others – a door to a room with very strange decoration. A large room. Posters. Skateboards. A guitar. Rodney puts all the things in his hands on the bed, then gets on hands and knees to yank something from under the bed.

It’s probably against several regulations to keep protective gear and munitions under your bed. Rodney doesn’t care. He’s just glad Sheppard does.

“Here,” he says, pushing the kevlar at Kolya, and dumping a handful of flashbangs on the bed too. “You pull here... and then fling... you have a few seconds, and you need to cover your own eyes or it’s pointless having them...”

Hmmm. A rather odd room, all things considered. Certainly very different from Rodney’s. Kolya stares around it, wondering why the place makes him feel... well. Something.

The assortment of weaponry, however, distracts him for a moment, and Kolya wastes no time in strapping on the kevlar. If it is as useful as Rodney claims, it is likely to be something that Kolya is going to want to get hold of, when all this is over.

Then he picks up one of the flashbangs, turning it over in his hand, well-aware of what _these_ things can do. Well. If the universe insists on being a circular bastard, then so be it.

“Excellent,” he says, quietly. “These should be effective.”

“Yes. Right. Is there anything else you want, or need, or...?”

This is too awkward. Too, too awkward. And Kolya’s leaving him. The fact repeats over and over in his mind. Kolya is leaving him, and Rodney can feel deep down in his bones that the universe hates him. Hates him just that much. Always has. Always will.

He can’t say that. His hand waves instead, mute.

It’s a good job Kolya doesn’t know where he is – because if he knew he was even _considering_ having these thoughts in _John Sheppard’s_ room, it would make him distinctly Not Happy for quite some time.

As it is, he’s too focused on everything else to stop and think for long enough to suspect anything.

“I think this will be sufficient,” he says. And pauses. He can feel the impending separation tugging between them, and he hates it intensely. But. This really is the only way.

“Rodney...” he begins, and then stops. Again with the awkward words! Kolya abandons any attempt to _say_ something meaningful, and instead reaches out to pull Rodney closer; to kiss him suddenly, and quickly, and desperately, and all those other unspoken terms that make so much more sense in this one instant of action.

But really, don’t anyone tell him whose room he’s in.

It is entirely possible Rodney won’t be able to look at John Sheppard without blushing for rather a long time. Or, for that matter, a puddlejumper. Or a transporter. Or cutlery. In fact, the list of things is rather long.

He is, for obvious reasons, not going to mention where they are, even if he could do with a mouth full of Genii. And he didn’t just think about the bed. Or the desk.

Rodney. Get a grip of yourself, man. _Not like that!_

Fortunately (probably) other things are rather too pressing for him to feel anything other than panic and terror, and for him to do anything but clutch at the kevlar ja— his kevlar jack— to clutch at Kolya’s clothing, making sure he doesn’t pull back too soon. Because clearly neither of them are good at doing anything but this when they need to talk, and why break the habit of a lifetime?

His other hand goes up to Kolya’s face, hovering but not touching, not until he pulls unhappily back, then he lets his fingertips touch. “I don’t like this. If you go off and get yourself killed... I’ll summon you back from whatever astral plane you’re on and complain at you til someone brings you back.” Which makes perfect sense to him. “Don’t... just don’t do anything stupid and heroic, okay? I’d be unbearable if you did. People would probably prefer we lose the city than put up with me really unhappy. And I mean **really** unhappy.”

Lips near lips, voice almost breaking. “Understand?” Oh god. Great timing. Behave like a true hero and start sobbing like a girl when it comes to the climactic sacrifice scenes. Because that looks good... He chokes anything back, though, not wanting to show himself up. Damnit.

There’s so much Kolya could say. So much – and yet, at the same time, it can all be summed up in the simple answer he chooses to give instead.

“Completely.”

And he does. Understand. Completely. Understand why Rodney doesn’t want to spend a moment apart – especially in a situation like this – understand why it is utterly, vitally, soul-wrenchingly, DESPERATELY important that neither of them dies. Understand all of it.

The world becomes so much clearer when all the barriers break down.

He strokes his hand across Rodney’s cheek, again and again, hesitating over any thought of other movement. “I am not going to die,” he whispers. “You are not going to die. And when this is over – when we save this city and rescue all your people and everything is once more as it ought to be – you’ll be able to look back on this moment with confidence.”

And maybe we’ll get a little time to ourselves. The universe really is very inconsiderate.

It’s a new experience, actually being comforted in the middle of a screaming hissy fit about the end of the world. And a new experience, having hands soothe him. It’s something he’s so rarely known that Rodney feels incredibly pathetic at how grateful he is. He leans into the caress, eyes jamming shut over damp eyes.

“Prove it,” he says, really struggling a lot to keep his voice level. The hand on Kolya’s face moves down to his chest, pressing his palm into it. The kevlar stops him feeling a heartbeat, and he drops his forehead to meet Kolya’s instead.

“Just... yes.”

He needs to step back. He tries. After a moment, he manages to, though it’s horrifying how painful it is. Horrifying. And the thought of what it will be like if... if...

No. It can’t. “We have to go now, before I lock the door and don’t ever let you leave.”

“I will,” Kolya replies, still so very quietly.

This is odd. So, so odd, and yet he’s doing and saying all of it without needing to think, without hesitation and without any kind of second-guessing. And yet, it is perhaps the most difficult conversation he can remember having with Rodney.

Though this doesn’t make it easier to step back. Not at all. And despite looking sure of himself, it would be hard to miss the pain in Kolya’s eyes, in the way it takes him ever so slightly too long to let his hand drop again.

He nods, ready to follow – and suddenly very eager to get this plan over and done with.

“I’m going to give you the destruct codes,” Rodney says, as he steps back. “I know mine. It won’t take me too long to crack everyone else’s, as all the security was designed by me or less-intelligent people anyway...”

He opens a drawer, hands him a radio. The same radios everyone in the city wears. Even those Moirans who may or may not be the men and women they look like. “If... if it looks like you need them, you have to do it. It... it shouldn’t ever come to that, but if we end up risking Earth...”

Rodney couldn’t do that, in all conscience. No. He sniffs a bit and tries to pull himself together again. It’s possibly one of the bravest things he’s done since he got here, though it doesn’t feel like it.

“Give me... give me... okay, when I say ‘tava’ over the radio, then I’m ready, and you need to start. Okay? I have no idea how I’m going to do this, but if I do, I’ll be back at my room as soon as I can. If you don’t hear from me...try to find Elizabeth. Sheppard. Anybody. And if that doesn’t work, run. As far as you can.” All the while walking to the transporter, where they’ll part.

Who would have thought, even knowing that things might get remotely _close_ to this point, that someone would _ever_ give Kolya the Atlantis destruct codes? No, really. The very concept is thought-provoking, even to him.

Not that there’s much time for thought, now.

“I will be ready,” he says, finally. “I will remain hidden outside the control room until I hear from you.”

Rodney nods. “You know where to press?” he says, as he steps into the transporter. “You can go first if you want... It doesn’t really matter, the movement is instantaneous, or as near as you can get, anyway...”

“I do. And you should go first.” I want to know that you’re en-route successfully. I _need_ to know.

“I will be waiting for your signal.” And then Kolya’s standing, waiting for Rodney to go – yet with something more than just a flicker of emotion in his eyes.

A lot more than a flicker.

Rodney nods, then raises his chin again with his most defiant, determined expression. Even if the worry in his brow and lips is more than evident.

The door swooshes between them, and Rodney silently moves his lips as it does. And then he’s gone.

That look. And then, _that_ look. And...

Kolya has to kick back a LOT of emotion at this. It’s the only way he can ensure he stays focused, the only way to be certain that swathes of distracting thoughts won’t set in. They’re close though, waiting at the edge of his mind, and he doesn’t want to engage with them. _Can’t_ engage with them.

It really is good there’s no one else here to see the expression in his eyes now.

But there’s no actual hesitation. There can’t be. As soon as the transporter doors re-open, Kolya steps inside, tapping the screen at the memorised point.

Oh. This is going to be an... experience.

***

It is amazing, really, how very _efficient_ one can be when time is of the essence and a great deal more is at stake than one wants to engage with. And for all their previous hesitating, neither Rodney nor Kolya wastes a second once they’re apart, both heading for their separate destinations.

They both have rather tricky plans in hand, though – which makes any kind of distraction even more of a bad idea than usual.

So far, however, everything seems to be going well. Rodney makes it to the puddlejumper bay and starts preparing one of the ships, whilst Kolya gets close to the control room, managing to find somewhere to stay hidden whilst he waits.

It isn’t for long. But that doesn’t stop it feeling like forever.

Then the radio crackles. There’s a pause. And a word.

“Tava.”

And all hell breaks loose. Metaphorically speaking.


	4. Die Hard Atlantis (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodney and Acastus have to take back Atlantis.

It is a little while later, and the corridors of Atlantis are still quiet. Quiet and – for the most part – empty. But not entirely. For up near Rodney McKay’s room, there is movement.

A little red in the face, somewhat out of breath, it looks like one Rodney McKay is the one palming entry into his own room. His hair is ruffled, his lips apart.

He blinks at what he sees.

The newcomer – real or not – has definitely run into the middle of something. Something rather serious-looking.

There are two men in the room, standing opposite each other and both holding guns. To the left is what _looks_ like Acastus Kolya, zat in his off-hand and his standard, Genii sidearm aimed straight ahead. To the right, and therefore directly in front of the person who might be Kolya, is (probably) Colonel John Sheppard, his own sidearm pointed at Kolya, and an equally immovable expression on his face.

Neither of them speaks as the door opens. In fact, they don’t look remotely ready to do anything beyond point guns at each other – save, of course, for _firing_ said guns. Which both seem prepared to do.

“I... what the hell is going on here?” the man in the doorway asks, looking from one to another in confusion.

“I was hoping you could tell me that, Rodney,” comes a familiar-sounding drawl. Not that attention is turned to him.

“John... Acastus...?”

The confusion is, sadly, inevitable. As the names are – to some extent – uncomfortable.

The man who might be Kolya doesn’t move even slightly, but there’s a distinct flicker in his eyes. If this is a copy, it’s a good one. If not, there may be a lot going on inside his head again.

“This... individual claims to be the illustrious colonel,” says maybe-Kolya, levelly. “But I have no way of knowing if that is true. I am, however, relieved to see that you’re all right – assuming _you_ are who you say you are.” 

“What? Of course I am... but you wouldn’t know that necessarily because I could be not-me – but I’m not... I - don’t shoot,” Rodney says, waving both hands emphatically. “Don’t anybody shoot anybody! I **knew** this would happen... well, not _this_ , of course, planning and foresight only get you so far but I suppose I should have expected this would happen...”

The man certainly rambles like Rodney.

“Rodney,” the Sheppard cuts in, a warning in his tone. “Assuming you _are_ Rodney. I’m not going to shoot him. Unless I have to. Now. Tell him not to shoot me.”

Maybe-Kolya gives possibly-Sheppard an even less impressed glower than before. “Make one wrong move and I’ll shoot you regardless,” he states, tone excruciatingly blunt.

That doesn’t help quite so much, as it could be interpreted in a number of ways. None of them are likely to be good, however.

“Okay,” the Rodney-resembling person says, voice at his most condescending and commanding pitch. “You, don’t shoot him. And you, don’t shoot him. And don’t either of you do anything that could possibly be construed as giving reason. There has to be a way to work this out....”

The mad-haired one tries not to roll his eyes. “So. What is it?”

At this, maybe-Kolya looks even _more_ dangerous; though, again, this is no sign of whether or not he’s real. At his side, the knuckles of his right hand whiten against the zat, almost as if he’s thinking about raising it.

He doesn’t, though. Not yet. Nor does he say anything else; apparently choosing to keep all energy directed to the glare.

“Look,” possibly-Rodney says. “We can get out of this with simple logic. Well, not simple logic. But logic. Right. The intruders can either look like us, or can possess us, right?”

Maybe-Sheppard nods slightly at that, still focussing entirely on maybe-Kolya. And blinking very, very rarely.

“As far as we know, yes,” comes possibly-Kolya’s reply. “Although we have no proof that the man I questioned was not lying. I certainly didn’t trust everything he told me.”

“They mimic,” the possibly-Sheppard offers. “Or at least, that’s what it looked like.”

“Okay. Right. Let me think this through,” the ‘Rodney’ says, hands moving about his face, hovering over the weapons near his hips. But not touching. No. “Something only we would know. Something they couldn’t find out. Everyone. Everyone _to_ everyone, so we’re all satisfied all ways.”

“How can we be certain that these intruders cannot read minds?” maybe-Kolya asks. “If they can, then _any_ of us could possess the entire knowledge of the person they resemble.”

And this is a very good point. It also happens to be a good point which would allow him to keep his gun levelled at Sheppard even longer.

“Yes. They could read minds. Or they could be able to know things if they possess us...” Rodney carries on, not missing one beat. “But if we all prove to one another – then we know we either are who we say we are, or that we maybe are, and the Moirans can read minds.”

Sheppard frowns a minute. “So. You’d then work on the assumption that we are us or they can read minds... and eliminate the chance they can’t...”

“Precisely,” Rodney replies, clicking his fingers at Sheppard. “Of course, if someone fails, then we know they aren’t who they say they are. And if one of us isn’t us, then the idiotic intruder would _have_ to reveal the knowledge we need, and not cover up the fact they can read minds, because they’d be caught out.”

The man bounces a little, looking nervously from one to the other with a vaguely worried smile.

“All right,” comes maybe-Kolya’s next reply, “but what if all of us ‘pass’ this test? We would still be left with no certainty as to which of us is real.”

This statement could mean a lot of things, depending in part on whether this Kolya _is_ real. It could be a delaying tactic, a confusing tactic, another open reason not to trust possibly-Sheppard one bit. Or it could be due to disliking the idea of using somewhat personal statements as a means of identification.

“We can then assume that we are either who we say we are, or the enemy can read minds. Or both. But that still... okay, okay, wait! If the enemy can read minds, or inhabit bodies, why would they resort to trickery?” asks the Rodney-alike, pacing up and down and gesturing emphatically with his hands.

“I’m not sure I follow,” the Sheppardish possibly admits.

“If they can read minds, they could get any information they wanted by either...” fingerwave around the head, “...scanning us, or taking over us. Yes? So if they needed any information, or codes, or anything like that, they could just get it, yes?”

The other man in Atlantean clothes nods. “....okay. And?”

Watching this exchange with obvious attention, maybe-Kolya tips his head slightly, without taking his gaze off possibly-Sheppard. “I believe what the man who may be the good doctor means is that if these intruders can read minds, then they would not need to deceive us in order to gather information – and if that is so, why would they attempt to deceive us nonetheless?”

“But I’m afraid the answer to that has to be: because they can. And because by misleading us, they only protect their own interests, whilst further hindering ours.”

Rodney shakes his head. “Yes. But. But. If you were both them... why not shoot me on the spot? Don’t take that as a suggestion! Just think... if you were them and you wanted this over with, and both of you were them and knew you were... you could just shoot me on sight, right? It would be easier and cleaner. You,” he waves at ‘Kolya’, “have a zat. And we’ve seen they tried to trick us and get us in my room, and that they wanted to get on with what they are doing, instead of killing us on sight.”

The Sheppard is looking increasingly confused. He isn’t the only one.

“...okay they could be playing some _really_ weird game and trying to torture us by letting us know they weren’t who they should be by being inefficient and stupid, and this is one whole mindfuck, but why only us, and no one else?”

“That tells _you_ that it is unlikely _both_ of us are impostors,” maybe-Kolya states, evidently trying to follow this deeply confusing logic through. “It does not, however, resolve the entire situation.”

Which sounds very much like it means, ‘does not tell me if I can shoot possibly-Sheppard.’

“Well, it lets me know you probably aren’t both evil. And... and I’m not either. Because if we were all evil, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. So one or both of you is good. And I have several weapons. Neither of you drew one on me – which I’m grateful for, by the way, even if it was a bit stupid of you – so I could have killed one of you if only one of you was good, and I could have killed you both if you were both good. So I’m good, and at least one of you is good too.”

“ _Potentially_ ,” maybe-Kolya adds, tone sceptical. “After all, one of us could be both an impostor and a very good liar.”

And at maybe-Rodney’s remark about the weapons, there’s a definite shift of expression in possibly-Kolya’s eyes. “There is a point you’re missing,” he goes on, tone assured but not sounding happy about something, “and that is how _we_ are to know that _you_ are real. As I said... you could be a good liar.”

It doesn’t sound as though that was something he wanted to say – and he looks extremely close to pointing the zat at possibly-Rodney, now. Why he hasn’t done so yet... is an interesting question indeed.

“If one of us were evil and telepathic,” Sheppard offers, “and Rodney was possessed... Moiran... whatever – he would be able to read whichever one of us – heck, he could read us both, and come in ready to kill us both. Assuming he wants us dead, or stunned. And not alive and confused.”

“Right,” says Rodney, clicking his fingers again. “I would have known what was happening, and could have shot you both. No matter how fast you are. No offence,” he adds, as an afterthought. “But if I could stealth to the door and shoot around it... well. I’d have the advantage.”

“John,” Rodney says, turning to the colonel. “When you first let me fly... my spatial equilibrium – no pun intended – was... less than it could have been. And you said it was like teaching your kids how to drive. Only you and I were there...” 

“You shoot well,” Sheppard answers, “once you remember your clips.”

Both seem satisfied.

Rodney turns to Kolya then, nervously walking forwards, slowly. Slowly. Moving to stand between them. There’s a question on his face. There is hope there, and no small amount of... of needing this to be him. If it is faked, it is well done. Neither of his hands are near his weapons. Either he’s very, very brave, very, very stupid, or... or who knows? He’s also got his back to Sheppard. But if Sheppard isn’t Sheppard, then Kolya is Kolya, and he trusts Kolya will shoot around him.

Though potentially-Kolya says nothing in response to this, yet, he doesn’t move – not dropping his aim in the slightest. He doesn’t even waver when Rodney steps right in front of him – but there’s another flicker in his eyes, which in all honesty is hardly surprising, no matter how you look at matters.

“I don’t like this,” he says, bluntly. “It still leaves too many reasons for me not to trust either of you. But given that there seems to be little other choice...” Only now does he actually look at Rodney, finally opting – for whatever reason – to take his gaze off Sheppard. “You,” he says to Rodney, “are far, far too fond of your footwear. And you,” focus back on Sheppard, “once told me you wanted ‘points.’ I believe you’ve had them.”

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but it does not spread to his eyes.

“There’s nothing I can say to you that Rodney wouldn’t know, and I couldn’t have got from him,” Sheppard says to Kolya, over Rodney’s shoulder. “But if that’s Rodney – and I’m willing to bet it is – he knows we weren’t alone on that puddlejumper. But we’re the only ones still here.”

Standing between them, Rodney looks rather pale, but smiles. “He’s right,” Rodney says, still facing Kolya. “If he’s reading my mind, he can read more than verbalised thoughts. And he hasn’t shot me in the back.”

There is a pause. Two. “Put the gun down, Acastus,” he says, stepping slowly in. “I could have shot you both. Colonel Sheppard could have shot me. I’m covering him, and he could have killed us both if he wanted to. We can’t save the city like this.”

Rodney closes his eyes. Standing between two guns, and one of them possibly wanting to kill him. And his eyes are closed. “I haven’t told you I think... I think I love you too. And you better be Acastus because if I just told... one of _them_ and not you... please. Put the gun down. Because if you don’t, I think I’m going to go into shock from lack of food and stress, and then I won’t be _any_ use in saving this city.”

“Rodney...” the possibly-Sheppard starts, sounding very worried.

“I can’t think of anything else,” Rodney replies, eyes still jammed shut. “And if one of you is going to shoot me anyway, please either kill me instantly or wound me superficially in a way that won’t ruin the rest of my life but will stop me from being dangerous to you.”

As gambits go, it has two things going for it. One, it is completely unexpected, Two, the reason it is unexpected is because it is insane. From all points of view.

The commander continues to look immovable and resolute... until Rodney says **that**. The moment he does, Kolya’s gun-arm lowers at once, dropping to his side, a look of genuine... something in his eyes. It might be surprise. It might be simple realisation. It might even be relief. He certainly doesn’t even stop to glance at Sheppard before he does it – which is hardly surprising, given that his gaze is now _entirely_ on Rodney.

“I know,” he says, quietly. “Of course I know.”

And then he smiles. Well. On his lips is a smile – but in his eyes, it’s ever-so-slightly more a smirk. Whether or not he plans to reveal the reason for it is another matter entirely, however.

“So everybody’s agreed nobody is killing anyone in my bedroom?” Rodney asks, eyes still pushed far too hard shut. His voice isn’t level. “This is good, because I have to live here, assuming I don’t get killed, and I’d rather none of us died or even got shot here. Really.”

His ears are pink. His hands move down a little, not surrender, just movement. He opens his eyes again, but isn’t meeting anyone’s glance at all.

“And now we just have to work out how to make everyone leave so I can sleep sometime this week. I was **not** expecting to be tired out by **this**.”

It is possible that the probably-Rodney didn’t realise how that would make a believed-to-be-Sheppard react. The look on the American’s face... is decidedly blank.

“Beckett was trying to come up with something. I was looking to find out what, but without arms or backup... I didn’t want to risk it. Hence why I came here.”

“So it would seem,” Kolya says in reply to Rodney’s remark – only now throwing a glance in Sheppard’s direction. It’s hard to tell whether he’s being smug or merely vaguely hostile.

Probably both, in all honesty. Though neither to an extent that Sheppard would have reasonable cause to comment.

“You came here?” the commander – well, probably – repeats. “Why would you do that, Colonel?”

“I heard you on the radio. Knew you were out when it happened... heard you come back... then heard you again,” Sheppard says, addressing Rodney, but all the time looking at Kolya. “This room is near the gateroom, and the labs. And I was looking for something Beckett thought might help.”

Rodney now decisively moves from between the two, the radiated hatred being more than enough. “What was his plan? Will it work?”

“Where are the rest of your people?” Kolya asks, throwing another question into the mix. Because. One good question deserves another.

He stays where he is, focus now moving carefully between the two other men, as if still waiting for some sign of danger. Well. From Sheppard, anyway. Though Kolya does now slip his sidearm back into its holster, transferring the zat into his left hand again – which at least rules out the likelihood that he _definitely_ thinks the colonel isn’t real.

“Most of them were off-duty. We tend to run in shifts, but there’s a natural shift...” Sheppard says, before looking over to Rodney. “You sure it’s him?”

“As sure as I can be without a method of identifying impostors and with our clothes on, yes,” Rodney snaps.

At that, Sheppard actually glowers. “I’m just sayin’. You wouldn’t want me divulging to _them_.” And likely, he doesn’t want to be divulging to _him_ , if he is him. But that’s beside the point. “There was news of some fault... everyone to get to their rooms... this was before we figured they could impersonate us, so we didn’t think to stop the call, or check it...”

He shrugs. “People seem locked up. And I have no way to get them out.”

“If we let them out now,” Rodney joins in, one arm wrapped around himself, the other moving to mouth, to wave, back to mouth, “...things get even more confusing, and the chances anyone real will get hurt are increased. Unless we can get Radek and Carson... and if we could be sure it actually _was_ them, and they hadn’t moved, or tried to make us believe people were in their rooms...”

Ignoring Sheppard’s hostility – despite radiating plenty of his own – Kolya turns his full attention to Rodney now. “I agree. We need to leave most, if not all of your people where they are. Having too many of them wandering the corridors would make it nigh-on impossible to work out who the intruders are.”

And thereby make shooting on sight less acceptable than it already seems to be.

“So what, exactly, is our plan? They can’t get through the Stargate,” Rodney says, remembering to turn to Sheppard for that, and remembering not to say why, either. Just in case. Well, just in case either – oh, this is ridiculous. “So they’re stuck with us, and us with them. They want technology, and they want us out of the way, and combined with the fact they locked you all out, I’d say they know the city well enough.”

“Beckett thought... okay, this is fairly complicated,” Sheppard begins. “He worked out it was more likely they were manipulating technology than changing _themselves_ – the scans didn’t show anything weird – and for them to be able to change their... facial structure, skeletal system... heck, even voice... it would show up when they got here. Unless they were blocking that.”

“Great. And his other evidence is...?”

“Didn’t get that far.”

“So your plan is what, Colonel?” And now Rodney’s less convinced he’s going to die, the adrenaline come-down, the residual tension temporarily ignored – the relations interrupted – make him a cranky Canadian. “Switch on an EMP and pray?”

“So far. Yes.”

Kolya practically rolls his eyes at this, gesturing at Sheppard with his non-zat-holding-hand. “This is the man who twice thwarted my every move? Are you _sure_ he’s real?” he asks.

“From what we’ve been able to gather,” he goes on, instantly focused again, “there are a lot of them here. If that is so, we need a way to incapacitate everyone but ourselves, without actually killing anybody. Though I for one also want to know who and _what_ they are.”

Of course, the commander can’t make any particularly specific suggestions, due to not knowing the city or its technology. But he can keep Rodney’s mind on track – and besides, he really isn’t just going to stand here and let Sheppard make all the decisions. 

The ice and lack of any emotion – even hatred – in Sheppard’s eyes at that is somewhat remarkable. “I deal with guns,” he says, hefting his noisily. “And I shoot at things. And I fly things, and shoot at things. Mostly human, unintelligent things, where it’s simple to outsmart them by using something like, oh, common sense and field training. I’m not stupid, but it would take more time than I have to learn what Rodney knows about technology, and I have some suspicion it’d take you longer still. Now, are we finished with the insults, or do you want to compare side-arms?”

Rodney chooses to ignore both of them. “They want technology... and they know enough to use our systems... it would make sense for them to have some kind of... generation device to mimic people, or – alternatively – it could be an extension of their telepathy. They might just be able to affect what we _think_ we can see. But without having one of them – and an unconscious one of them, too – to check, there’s no way I can tell. I hardly even met them. I wasn’t here for most of the exchanges you’ve had with them.” The last said with some accusation. Whether called for or not.

“And he isn’t,” Rodney adds, seemingly apropos of nothing. “Stupid. He passed Mensa.”

“So we’re back to square one?” Sheppard asks, with a pointed look at Kolya. “Try everything until something works? Everything like, say, an electromagnetic pulse?”

“A strong enough pulse would knock out any of our own technology we have with us. So unless you want to try it on a smaller scale, I don’t want to take that risk.”

“Alternatives?”

“Oh no,” Kolya says to Sheppard, the forced-calm obvious. “You have more than proven your proficiency with... things.”

Then he turns to Rodney again, ignoring Sheppard and whatever looks said colonel might be throwing – his tone definitely cool, though not cold, when he speaks. “One alternative,” he says, “would be to capture their leaders, and attempt to use them against their own people.”

“You assume they care about their leaders,” Sheppard jumps in, before Rodney can speak. “Not everybody does.”

And, accidentally, he’s now embarrassed Rodney, who suddenly – and, for the matter, rarely – starts to look down and mumble a little. “Capturing their leaders would require a strong offensive. And... oh, fuck, you don’t have a cloak!”

“A what?”

“A cloak! A sensor cloak. They could find us at any minute!” Rodney pushes people out of the way, grabbing anything he thinks might be useful. Including several things that might help an EMP detonation. “Move! Unless someone has a brilliant idea in the next... two minutes...” he says, juggling with everything and the datapad all at once.

Any kind of distraction is preferable right now, as far as Kolya’s concerned – because spending much longer having _this_ discussion is going to make him even more aggressive than he currently feels. Which is very.

Zat up, he moves to the doorway, waiting for the other two to join him, and – notably – for Sheppard to do precisely what Kolya would expect another military man to do in this situation; namely, to take the wall on the other side of the door and get ready to burst through it in unison, in case there are hostiles in the corridor.

Fighting alongside John Sheppard. Now Kolya _knows_ the universe is doing this deliberately.

“Okay. We move out. Any way I can get one of those things?” Sheppard asks, making a wave at the box on Rodney’s leg.

“Maybe. If we could get into the lab we had to attack to get them in the first place, in between everything else.”

“Okay. Just asking.” Sheppard is a little slower to move – for whatever reason – but he’s too well-trained and too happy to continue living to do anything other than exactly what is needed. He, however, is not holding a zat.

Silent, focused, Kolya holds up a hand – realising that there’s little point in using field signals because he has no way of knowing if the Atlantean versions are remotely similar. But it’s fairly clear what he’s thinking, nonetheless.

Once they’re in place, he gestures sharply at the door before quickly slapping the button to open it – and then bursting into the corridor, aiming left whilst expecting Sheppard to aim right.

Kolya is, of course, above using their current situation to prove to Sheppard that he is exceptionally competent... though this probably comes close. 

“I have the lifesigns detector, you know,” Rodney says, whilst Kolya and Sheppard are in the middle of their manly posing. “And unless they’re really, _really_ telepathic, I doubt they have any way to avoid the scan, yet.”

It isn’t exactly respectful. But it is honest. And, for once, actually reliable. Rodney leans over to tuck things into Sheppard’s vest, as it has free pockets and he doesn’t.

“Are we going in the direction of the gateroom and immobilising anyone we find if we come across someone beforehand, or are we just aimlessly wandering around in silence?”

Sheppard glares. “Sounds good.”

“If we can evade their scans, there is no reason to believe they cannot evade ours,” Kolya replies, so flatly that it would be difficult to argue he hadn’t been thinking this all along... even if it is a possibility.

“We should head for the gateroom, but we ought to find some way to cloak the colonel if possible – because the element of surprise will be vital once we are ready to make our move.”

Rodney dismisses the idea. “I doubt they would go to the effort, or be intelligent enough. I saw the limited lockdown they imposed and it was an inferior job... not that anyone could approach me in that field, but it’s clear they are _not_ as intelligent as me. And these cloaks are really quite advanced.”

“We should still be careful,” Sheppard offers, even though it pains him to be even vaguely in accord with Kolya. “No sense tempting fate.”

“We can go look for more units, but I think they’ll have upped their security. Anyway. We could use him as a diversion. If they think we’re with him, and we aren’t, can’t we use this?” All while walking, and mostly looking at the pad in hand.

Ah. Using Sheppard as a diversion. That thought alone makes Kolya feel a great deal happier. “We can indeed,” he agrees at once, managing to keep most of the emotion out of his voice.

Kolya stays close to Rodney as they walk, occasionally glancing over the doctor’s shoulder at the map. But after a moment, despite not wanting to talk to the colonel, he looks over at Sheppard again. “How many more of your people are free?” he asks. Because. Knowledge. Power. Planning. And so on.

“I don’t know. They’d impersonated most of the major staff before we worked out what they were doin’. And I had no way to tell people apart. Beckett was free. Doctor Weir. Doctor Zelenka was not himself when I saw him. At least, it looked that way. They got to Beckett before I could reach him. I had to go get supplies... an’ I didn’t want to shoot to kill any of our guys.” Our guys. But not ‘your’ guys.

“Basically, I know ‘bout as much as you do. Unless you ain’t lettin’ on. But then I don’t know if you are or not. All I know that’s tactically relevant... you know.”

“What about their culture? What do you know about them? There must have been some...” Rodney makes a gesture involving both hands and artistic licence... “co-ordination...”

“That they were fairly technologically advanced, and that we could both benefit from mutual exchange. That they _appeared_ cautious, but friendly. But we know what they showed us might not, in fact, be the truth.”

Rodney puts up a hand and stops. “Three lifesigns approaching.”

“I am glad to hear you are such a humanitarian,” Kolya says, rather sourly, to Sheppard – though coming from a man who so far today has killed three people and seriously injured another, this statement may not be intended in an entirely literal sense.

But before he can say anything else, he’s glancing over Rodney’s shoulder again to look at the approaching blips on the map. Wonderful. Kolya lifts his zat, fully intent on shooting anyone who comes near them – which might be why he moves so that he’s standing in front of Rodney instead of behind him.

Rodney frets for a moment, staring at Sheppard. And then he thrusts his zat at him. “You’re a better shot and have more experience,” he says, by means of quick explanation. And plus, Sheppard could kill him with the gun much easier, so it isn’t that much of a sacrifice.

Sheppard nods and takes it, making sure Rodney catches his eye. “Thanks, Rodney. You’re best behind us both. Don’t want the brains of the outfit hurt, now do we, boys?” Sheppard asks, cocking his head at Kolya, but moving to the best place as he says so.

“I’ll fire to confuse,” Rodney says, readying his beretta obviously, to show he isn’t phased. Much. “You should... well you know what you should do...” he tells them, with a worried look at both. The look clearly says: if you die, I’ll kill you. Sometimes logic is unnecessary.

Pointedly ignoring Sheppard’s remark, Kolya takes up a tactical position; one which gives him clear vantage in the direction the hostiles will be coming from, and one which also allows him to cover Rodney as best he can.

And then, without warning, the trio of newcomers burst around the corner ahead of them – immediately looking surprised to find themselves facing not one but three men. Three _heavily-armed_ men. Evidently, they had believed the lone blip on their own scans – Sheppard – to be all they would be facing.

The surprise is helpful, and Kolya doesn’t hesitate before opening fire, hitting one of the hostiles as they scramble for cover.

Rodney is behaving as well as you expect a Rodney in a battle situation with his best friend and his boyfriend and shapeshifting aliens. This comprises of shooting the ceiling above the enemy and yelling.

Sheppard, on the other hand, is concentrating on ducking, shooting, rolling a little, and shooting some more. The first guy he catches clean, and he goes down immediately. The second guy is behind the one Kolya stunned, and it takes some swing to turn in his direction and fire – but not before the Moiran manages to get off a round or three of his own.

“Aaaaaaa!” screams Rodney.

“Gnsssf!” exclaims the Moiran.

Atlantis refuses to pass comment.

Seeing where the Moiran must be heading, Kolya also swings to aim at him – and realising that he can get a better line of fire if he moves slightly, he does. It’s just one step. And it would have worked very well indeed, had the Moiran not executed a sudden duck at precisely the wrong moment.

Something on the ceiling – exactly what, Kolya couldn’t tell you – crackles unexpectedly, showering a few sparks on the man below, who fires another round just as Kolya’s zat-bolt shoots over his head, missing by inches. This forced change of position is just enough to offer the man a split-second of perfect aim, and he takes it. The gunfire seems to echo even more in that one instant, just before Kolya is thrown backwards as a bullet smashes into his right shoulder.

He hits the ground before the realisation sets in, though not before the pain does. _This is not happening again!_

But it is, it would seem.

Sheppard is charging at the man immediately, zatting him, walking over to him, yelling at him. But he, like the other two, is now unconscious. Sheppard swears. As much as he doesn’t like Kolya, there are several obvious reasons why him being shot is bad. If nothing else, Elizabeth will kill him. And Rodney. And probably Cowan too. He kicks the leg of the offending invader in frustration.

Rodney, on the other hand, YELLS, and it’s only John being between him and the man in question that keeps the Moiran from being shot squarely between the eyes. Repeatedly. Until there are no eyes left to shoot between.

That thwarted (and, for one horrible moment, Rodney could see his rage carrying him forward, anger unchecked, loosing his magazine into Sheppard’s shoulders. But it did not happen. It did not happen), Rodney flings down his gun – and is lucky it does not go off – and is immediately ignoring the rest of the world, armed or not, and kneeling next to Kolya, his mouth running immediately at a pace very, very few people have witnessed and even fewer have survived mentally intact. He knows the three Moirans are down. Knows Sheppard will make sure of it. His responsibility in that respect is waived.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. He shot you. He shot you, didn’t he? Of course he did, I can see the blood... Kolya! Acastus! Oh god, can you hear me? Does it hurt? Can I do anything? _Can_ I do anything?!” Rodney’s hand hovers over the shoulder – not touching, but almost needing to. His other hand is on Kolya’s left shoulder, but he’s so far resisted the urge to drag him upright. Just. His face is, very likely, much, much more paled than that of Kolya himself.

“Rodney. Rodney. I need to get in if you want medical assistance,” Sheppard says, sounding strained behind him. Rodney does not move.

It takes a second for Kolya to process everything – a second which feels a lot longer than it ought to. For the most part, he’s aware of a great deal of shouting, shooting and moving, though everything seems out of order until he manages to re-engage with reality. And _then_ he rather wishes he hadn’t, because reality turns out to involve a sharp jolt of unpleasantly familiar pain, which stubbornly refuses to fade.

Reflexively, he claps his left hand – which is currently empty, having dropped the zat in mid-fall – over the wound, just before a very frantic Rodney comes into view above him, talking at triple-speed and looking more upset than Kolya has seen him in a long time. He blinks, forcing the world to make sense again, before instinctively taking his hand off his own shoulder and grabbing Rodney’s wrist instead.

“Rodney, I can hear you, it’s all right.” Though you can tell from his voice that the commander is anything but ‘all right.’

“Oh god, thank god, oh god you’re going to die,” is what immediately comes to Rodney’s mind. And, being highly stressed, there’s no chance he could do anything **but** say it. It isn’t very intelligent of him, but he’s immediately clinging to the hand on his wrist, clutching it so tightly you’d think he was scared it was going to run off down the corridor.

“No he isn’t, not if we see to him fast, and then get the heck out of here. And save the city. But we’ll do it Rodney, okay?” Sheppard doesn’t even break pace, apparently knowing precisely how best to deal with a hysterical McKay. Fortunately Kolya does not require moral comfort. Sheppard does not know if he could give it.

“Do something!” Rodney snaps, even as Sheppard is leaning over, taking a quick peer.

“Can you sit up?” the colonel asks, nodding at Rodney to help. “We need to see if it’s still inside, or if it made a clean breast. No pun intended.” Already a little line of supplies has formed: bandages, water, salve, analgesics. He is, after all, trained.

Still not entirely with it, Kolya blinks at Rodney again. “I’m not,” he insists, as if saying so is utterly crucial. “I survived last time.” Which he did. Though the talking about it without hesitation? Not a good sign.

And then, he has to switch his attention to Sheppard. He doesn’t _want_ to do anything of the sort, but the parts of his mind that are working more clearly make adamant insistence that Sheppard might, in fact, have medical training.

Maintaining his grip on Rodney’s arm – which might well be more than just a need for support – Kolya does his best to sit upright, though this isn’t exactly easy.

Sheppard automatically moves behind him, kneeling and supporting Kolya’s weight with his own torso. “You’re lucky. It went straight through. Well, lucky in that you don’t have to run around with a bullet in you, and at most some fragments. Unlucky in that exit wounds are a ki—a kicker. Rodney, pass me the water, alcohol and bandages,” he says, pressing his hand on the exit wound. “And Kolya, you press on the front. We stop this up good and proper and you won’t bleed to death.”

Rodney – with a skeptical expression that indicates he thinks Sheppard’s medical knowledge is not much better than the quackery most perform – hands the necessary things over. “How much damage did it do? Is he going to be okay?”

“Without time, I can’t see if anything shattered, but if it was major, it would be obvious. Don’t suppose you know, Kolya?” he asks, giving no warning before he’s cutting quickly through the shoulder of his jacket for access, splitting above the seam. The fabric resists at first, but then gives way. Again, no warning, so no tensing, and he’s sterilising the wound and strapping on a field dressing calmly. “Rodney, you need to come here so I can work on the front. You do that for me?”

Rodney looks dubious, but complies again. He’s still saying nothing, going from 60-0 in very little time indeed. But he moves. The change over is a little difficult, but rapid. It has to be. Rodney kneels a lot more gingerly, trying to keep his knees from digging into anything, rubbing mindlessly at Kolya’s left shoulder in an attempt to soothe, the other hand combing his hair back from his face. It’s the only thing he trusts himself to do, in this case, reluctantly acknowledging Sheppard’s superior experience. The silence is unnatural. But, possibly, necessary.

“I can’t tell for sure,” Kolya says to Sheppard, tone still unnaturally level – even for him – “but it feels much like it did last time.” Of course, that was his _other_ shoulder, and at least this time he’s still going to be able to use his left arm. It’s little comfort, though, as is the sudden realisation that events are getting more circular by the second. If Sora happened to come wandering down the corridor at this point, Kolya probably wouldn’t be surprised.

He’s fighting to control all his reactions, now – understandably unhappy about showing any kind of weakness in front of Sheppard – but the pain is still evident, flickering in his eyes and obvious in his voice. Then Rodney’s behind him, holding on to him, and that is so welcome that it draws out some of the tension. Helps him think. Focus.

Kolya turns his head to look at the doctor as best he can, a rather wry smile crossing his face all of a sudden. “What does this city of yours have against my upper body?” he asks.

“The same thing it has against my sanity and sleeping patterns,” Rodney replies, putting his face closer to Kolya’s to make it easier, to get closer… but not so close it makes focussing hard. He smiles back, though it’s somewhat broken, as he keeps tensing his jaw. His hands know what to do, for once, and it’s something similar to what they’d be doing with the air, anyway, which helps to calm him down a little too. “Don’t take it personally. But I think your galaxy is even more perverse than mine.” He rests his face against Kolya’s, on his left shoulder, cheek to cheek, wanting as much contact as possible – and possibly unable to meet his eyes again, anyway.

Sheppard’s manner is now all-practical, and any hostility in him seems to have vanished for the moment. Perhaps it’s the power of bedside manner, training, necessity. Perhaps it’s because he can’t help but feel sorry for him – for anyone in pain – and especially someone hurt about something that isn’t even his fault. Or, wouldn’t have been but for coming here in the first place. Whatever it is, it sees him through long enough to calmly, carefully clean and inspect the wound before dressing it too, and then a quick, gentle stroke with his fingers in the general area to get some idea of what’s happening underneath. He should have warned him, yes, so perhaps he isn’t _entirely_ without hostility.

“From what I can tell, it’s fine. As fine as it can be. I can give you something for the pain, but I don’t want to give you too much in case it affects your reaction and judgement. You think you can carry on if we do that, or do you want Rodney and me to find you a place that’s safe and give you something stronger?”

Leaning into Rodney a little more, Kolya shuts his eyes for a moment, forcing his mind to re-centre itself. He can’t _do_ anything else – not until Sheppard finishes treating his shoulder – so the only option remaining is to stay where he is and try not to overthink.

He’s grateful, in a strange, almost bitter way, for the fact that both he and Sheppard seem to have accepted this situation without using it as an opportunity for further hostility between them. And the opportunities have been there, of course – on both sides – so the lack of acting on them helps. Kolya even manages not to say anything when Sheppard does **that** , the fresh jolt of pain prompting nothing more than a slight jump in his breathing.

But you don’t want to ask him which specific element of his training is coming to the fore, all of a sudden. You _really_ don’t.

“I can carry on,” he states, utterly determined to see that he does. “I have no intention of leaving either of you. Besides, if you want to save this city, you need me.”

There’s no hesitation in Sheppard’s voice when he says, “All right.” He does add, however, “But if you need to stop at any time, you just say. I know this isn’t really your fight, and if it’s hurting you too much... we won’t hold it against you. Understand?”

Rodney’s feelings on the matter are somewhat conflicted. On the one hand, he doesn’t like to see Kolya suffering. On the other, he doesn’t want to worry about him being hurt where no one will know. And then, the purely selfish knowledge that they really do need him. He squeezes Kolya’s good shoulder gently, in what he hopes is a reassuring fashion, then turns his face into Kolya’s, so his forehead is pressed into the other man’s temple. He won’t kiss him. Not here and now like this. It would feel... wrong. But it’s close enough, and Sheppard is rising and repacking his pockets.

“We should move. Rodney, I’m a liability. You want to take Kolya to one side and test the EMP theory on one of those guys,” he nods at the Moirans on the floor, “and meet me in the jumper bay when you know what you’re doing? I’ll see what use I can be there, where there’s more noise to signal and they might miss me.”

“Why in the jumper bay?” Rodney asks, suddenly suspicious.

“It’s near the control room, and big enough to hide in. And with cloakable vessels. Why?”

“No... no reason. Yes. You go. But... we need some kind of password...”

“I will not be stopping unless actually incapacitated,” Kolya replies. Then – tone wry but not hostile – he adds, “And that is not an invitation.”

Much as he enjoys being this close to Rodney, Kolya knows he needs to be upright again – so he moves to struggle to his feet. Naturally, this hurts, though he continues trying not to show it.

“I don’t think we should split up,” Kolya says, after Sheppard makes that suggestion – and the thought of actively _wanting_ the colonel around? Also not good. “It was difficult enough to establish our identities last time – and I for one do not entirely trust you. A feeling that I’m sure is mutual.”

“Well, I know it’d be a new trick if they managed to duplicate that,” Sheppard says, with a nod to Kolya’s shoulder. He leaves Rodney to help the man to his feet.

Something Rodney is only too happy to do. If somewhat clumsily. And hovering in close.

“You don’t want to take advantage of these fellas?” he asks, now gun-toting again, waving the 9mm at them. The zat in the other hand.

“We should,” Rodney says. He looks torn. “If we can restrain them, you can both lock me in a room with them and go running around in teleporters and circles while I get an EMP sorted. Or we could hide you,” he says to Sheppard, “in the ventilation ducts of the room next door until we’re done. Then if anyone arrives, you’ll be in cover, and we could come at them from behind? Or do you **really** want to go into the gateroom, all guns blazing, and hope to god we can ask them all nicely to go home before we cut someone’s hair?”

Kolya thinks very, very fast, a number of different issues all coming to mind, interacting, and mentally bouncing off each other as he tries to decide what is worth pushing, what he can concede, and what is likely to reduce the likelihood that he’ll act on one of the thoughts that has just made itself known.

He glances at the fallen Moirans again, the bitter look in his eyes unhidden.

“All right,” he half-concedes, half-agrees. “Rodney and I will test this EMP theory of yours,” – and just what is an EMP anyway? – “whilst you, Colonel, go to the jumper bay.” There’s a distinct edge to this statement, which says something along the lines of ‘and if you turn out to be a Moiran spy, I am going to make sure you suffer for it.’

Sheppard looks from one to the other, then back. It’s clear he’s thinking. Then he removes his vest – his armour, in effect – and turns his back. “Do... do something but don’t tell me what, so I won’t know and they can’t read my mind. Do something you’ll recognise. And I’ll keep the vest on me or die defending it, if necessary. Then if my vest’s the same, you can assume they’ve either killed me and stolen it, or that it’s me. And Kolya... give me something of yours, and I’ll write something on it only Rodney could understand.”

Rodney snorts at the ludicrousness of it all, but goes quickly through the vest. He eventually finds the cam cream, and Sheppard’s Swiss Army knife, partially opens it, silently, and drags the nail file through the blade, before closing it to quietly, under a rustle of other things to mask the noise – the green smear now hidden – and pockets the little green box where Kolya can see. That done, he gets up and hands Sheppard the vest back. “There. It’s... the best I can do.”

There is simply no way – barring, perhaps, a literal life-or-death choice – that Kolya is going to give John Sheppard his knife. Not _that_ knife, anyway. But he is the sort of person who one can imagine walking around with _several_ of the things.

Transferring his re-acquired zat to his somewhat-aching right hand for the moment, Kolya reaches into his belt-pouch, drawing out a smaller blade. A small combat knife, in fact, and one of Atlantean design. It’s entirely possible Kolya has been carrying it around a lot since the Planet – for it is, of course, the very same knife he was using to cut up dinosaurs some time ago.

Calmly – distracted from the pain for a moment by the now-traditional flashbacks – Kolya offers the blade to Sheppard, as requested.

Sheppard does not know where the knife came from. As such, he makes the only sensible conclusion that it’s one taken from one of his own – ex – men. And as such, is an intended insult. His face goes stonily blank again, and he brandishes his marker pen, de-capping it as one would de-sheathe a weapon. Pen. Sword. Same difference.

On the blade he writes something in sure – **large** – black letters. _‘Narsil’_.

And, one day, maybe he’ll get it back, for whichever of his men died pointlessly and who can’t diplomatically be avenged.

Rodney is careful not to look at what’s written yet, and waits until everything is put away. Below, one of the Moirans is stirring. “Go,” he tells Sheppard, and squats to put his hands under the waking man’s arms, dragging him rapidly backwards into one of the rooms. “Get ready to knock them out without a zat,” he says to Kolya, as he hurries to get them all in the next room and out of the corridor.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he says to Sheppard, holding his eye for a moment. Just enough. And then Sheppard is running off, like so many other times...

If Kolya knew what Sheppard was thinking, he would quite possibly be turning to the man right now and telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he might want to wait before making assumptions which certainly do not help the diplomatic situation. That having all the facts is more important than ever, now. And that whatever Sheppard’s grievance, it is nothing compared to Kolya’s.

It’s the kind of thought process that, were it acted upon, could spark an extremely long and unpleasant argument. This is why it is a good thing that Kolya cannot, contrary to the insistence of a few of his subordinates, read minds.

As it is, he takes back the knife, noticing Sheppard’s expression and choosing to give him no more than a suspicious one in return. And before anything else can be said, there’s a flurry of movement; Sheppard is leaving, and Kolya is quickly remembering all the ways he knows to incapacitate people.

Some of them will be difficult with the hindrance of his injury. Some will not. Either way, he keeps the men covered with his zat – because although he’s trying to avoid shooting them again, he will if he has to.

Rodney knows without asking that Kolya will cover him – even now – and that if needs be, he can take a single zat shot himself. He even knows what it feels like, though it’s possible that asking why would not be wise.

And, worryingly, restraining them quickly and efficiently is now ludicrously easy.

“If one of them wakes up... talk to him. It’ll take me a moment or two to set this up.” Then he quickly flings all the equipment he needs on the table-top, and starts to work.

“I have every intention of doing so,” Kolya replies, moving closer to the Moirans with a suddenly alarming look in his eyes – one bordering on eagerness. Hunger, perhaps. He keeps his zat trained on the men, even after Rodney finishes tying them up, watching the first one slowly start to come to.

It’s the third one he wants to really get his hands on, though – a fact evident from the additional glances he keeps throwing in said man’s direction. And considering that all three were stunned in fairly quick succession... yes. Any moment now, both two and three will be coming to.

Kolya stands waiting, seemingly calm and patient, until the other men also show signs of life – at which point he closes in on the third, radiating utter dangerousness. In all honesty, it’s only the fact that Rodney may need all three Moirans alive which keeps Kolya from killing the third right now.

Rodney doesn’t look up – too intent on his own contribution, and aware of the haste needed – or he might have been paying more attention to the situation. But nothing is ideal, especially not in an invasion.

The other two Moirans start to slowly rouse, trying to move their hands immediately, before finding themselves immobilised. The third one looks up first – apparently the hardiest of the two. He groans unhappily. He looks even more unhappy when he sees who is in front of him.

Choosing not to hide his hatred – this being a time to use it, not conceal it – Kolya seizes the front of the man’s shirt, drags him slightly away from his two comrades, and slams him firmly to the floor. This is all done one-handed, and Kolya is aware – more than ever – of how glad he is that his left shoulder rarely hurts any more.

If it did, he would be even more aggressive-looking now than he already is. Which would be saying something.

Glaring down at the Moiran, Kolya swiftly draws his knife, jabbing it against the man’s neck and forcing his head back. “Listen carefully,” he growls. “You are going to answer my questions, or you are going to suffer a _great_ deal. You can start by telling me where the rest of the Atlanteans are – and trust me, I will not accept ignorance as an answer.”

The man on the floor coughs, seemingly trying to even be able to speak in the first place. “Most of them? In their rooms. Where they are **safer** ,” he says, trying to turn just enough so he can look away from Kolya in disgust. “Freeing them will do you no good. If you could free them at all.”

“Oh, it will do us a **great** deal of good,” Kolya retorts, jabbing the knife a little closer. “Now. I want to know how your people are able to look like the Atlanteans. Are you possessing their bodies, or altering your own appearances?”

In the middle of this, he flashes a glance at the other two men – wordlessly conveying one simple fact: _if **he** doesn’t co-operate, you’re next._

The second man seems happy to remain silent, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

The third man breathes deeper still. “Possession,” he says, though without much conviction in any direction. “Although I have no way to prove it to you.”

“No,” Rodney says, snapping things in place, “but I might be able to prove you wrong...”

At this, Kolya actually smiles, but it is most definitely not a nice smile. He continues to glare at the man he’s pinning, though lifts the knife in order to gesture in Rodney’s direction for a moment. “Now this is going to be interesting,” the commander remarks, resting the blade in place again. “This is your last chance to change your answer – because if Doctor McKay proves that you’re lying to me, you are going to die.”

The man’s smile is weak, more a grimace than anything else. The man next to him is all but twitching in distress.

“Doctor McKay could be proving wrong, or lying. Or Colonel Sheppard could have been. Even if you do ‘prove’ it, you’ll kill me, and there’s no guarantee you’re even right at all.”

“For an EMP to make you look like you’d been projecting an image when you hadn’t... would be an impressive accomplishment, yes,” Rodney snaps, “but not one I’ve got time for right now. Or Sheppard for that matter. And if I **was** fabricating, why would I be trying not to kill any of you in case you **were** who you looked like, and what possible reason could a not-Sheppard have for making us think you’re acceptable gun-fodder? People! Logic doesn’t apply, clearly...”

The man merely grinds his jaw tighter. “Is there anything I **could** say that would stop you from killing me, anyway?” he asks. “Commander Kolya would be all too happy to spill my blood. So I’m not saying anything until you promise me my life. And promise me my life won’t stop any time soon.”

But his position is weak, and he knows it. And it shows.

“He could,” Kolya replies, levelly, “but I have my own reasons for trusting him – and none whatsoever for trusting you. And even if I did kill you before getting to the truth, I still have both of your colleagues.”

Said colleagues get another brief, alarming glance now – and it’s entirely possible that Kolya has more than one plan in progress here.

“Oh yes,” the commander goes on. “There are things you could say. You could give me a great many important pieces of information: the names and locations of your leaders, how many of your people are here, how _exactly_ you affect your appearances and whether or not you really _can_ read minds.”

Which might, it must be said, be asking a lot. But then, Kolya is not expecting a sudden deluge of answers. In all honesty, he’s almost hoping that the man will refuse to co-operate.

“Furthermore,” he adds, as if this latest chain of threats wasn’t enough, “this turn of events has demonstrated to me the risk your group poses. If I do not have suitable information to bring back to my own people, I may be forced to take at least one of you to Geneva for further interrogation. In the interests of diplomacy, I expect the Atlanteans would allow me that.”

Actually, Elizabeth might be squeamish about interrogation of Moirans. Even if they **did** take over the city. Rodney fails to point this out, however, knowing it’s not really helpful to Kolya’s case.

“Our leaders – like our people – are on many different planets, under many different names. Too many planets to tell you all, and about our leaders I can’t tell you anything.”

“He’s telling the truth,” says the second man, joining in hesitantly. “Very few of us would know who and where our people are. We... integrate with societies,” he offers. “And those we can go undetected in, we do. Atlantis is a special case.”

The third man’s face briefly registers annoyance with his teammate, but keeps his voice level. Level, not closed. Because he’s not trained well for this. Few of them are. “There are over a hundred of us here. You can’t possibly win. If you let us go, we will secure you until the sweep is done, and then you’ll all be released when we leave. And yes, Doctor McKay, I do want to live. And I am not insane.”

Rodney looks frustrated at this, then slaps his device. “Well if you can read minds, you know this EMP is primed, and that any masking technology you carry will be shorted. So you might want to think about what Kolya said.”

Without giving any acknowledgement of what _has_ been said, Kolya slowly looks at the three men, one by one, trying to read their eyes. This turn of events is... interesting. Almost textbook in a way – and yet… also not.

Then he stands, looming somewhat over the Moiran who’s still his focus in this. “Let’s just see how honest you really are,” he remarks, a ‘last chance’ edge to his tone. And then, turning to Rodney, he says, “Whatever you plan to do, now is the time.”

Rodney nods, then flips a switch. Switches are so undramatic. The result, on the other hand, is not. There’s a flicker, and then... the three men on the floor are actually two men and one (still silent) woman.

“Hah!” Rodney says, sounding very smug.

The two Moirans who have spoken, on the other hand, do not. In fact, one of them looks almost sick. The other merely has her eyes closed. Silent.

This is impressive. It also demonstrates, rather helpfully, that the people Kolya has been shooting, threatening and occasionally killing are _not_ possessed Atlanteans. This fact will no doubt be of great help when the situation is over. And if he feels just a little relieved that he hasn’t actually been injuring and killing Atlanteans for the greater good... well. It’s something he’ll certainly have to think about later.

Right now, he gives the Moirans a look that _no one_ would want to be on the receiving end of. “You were lying to me,” Kolya says, tone suddenly very blank – the threat evident solely in its absence.

He steps up to the third Moiran again, dropping to one knee at the man’s side – looking fully intent on killing him this time.

The third man closes his eyes. “You would have killed me sooner, if I hadn’t,” he replies. His principles tell him to die. The rest of him does not. It is a somewhat hard fight.

“Don’t!” the second man blurts out, interrupting the other. “Please. We didn’t want to hurt any of you. None of your people are harmed,” he insists, though cringes when he realises who he is addressing. “Please, remember that.”

The third scowls briefly at him, then looks back in Kolya’s direction. Looks a little low. In fact, he looks like he is... concentrating. “Others have shot you similarly, for doing what we are doing now. And yet, he lives, and you are invited back here. And still you would kill us?”

“You just read him?” Rodney asks, stepping into the debate. “How do you do that? How much do you know?”

Kolya would like to be taking this moment to feel remarkably pleased about how effective this has been in affecting the second man – but at the third man’s words, he _stops_. For all of three seconds. Then he slams his free hand down on the Moiran’s chest, looking ready to do far worse than just kill him.

“ _Stay out of my mind_ ,” he growls. His tone is more than just angrily emphatic – it is one that leaves absolutely no room for debate. Because Acastus Kolya really, _really_ does not like the idea of having his mind read.

But he does, however, deign to reply to the question. “Do not presume to think that a quick foray in my thoughts explains _that_ whole situation to you. I wanted the man responsible dead for a long time – as I am sure he wanted me dead as well. The fact that matters have changed somewhat does not detract from how they were.”

The man looks distant for a moment longer, then looks up. It’s impossible to see whether he knows more – or is seeing more – only that it looks as if he isn’t. “No. It doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean things couldn’t change here, too.” He is now in the calm space where disaster is almost inevitable, and worrying about it no longer serves any purpose. If it ever did. It’s clear he is not what the Terrans would call ‘normal’ – even for an alien.

The second man still looks somewhat scandalised. It is entirely possible he doesn’t have exactly the same values as the first.

“If we talk to you,” he says, “will you guarantee us safety?”

“Cambres, be _quiet_.”

“You might want to die, but this isn’t what _I_ came for.”

“Whatever you freaky little men are arguing about – lives, suicides, whatever – we’re going to have to move fast, Acastus. They’ll figure out these people have gone AWOL.”

Still looking deeply dangerous, Kolya glances over at Rodney. “All right,” he says. “But give me one more minute.”

He turns his attention back to the Moirans, but now focuses on the second, not the third – meeting the man’s eyes at once. “If you give me information that will assist in dealing with your people... then I will do what I think appropriate to ensure your safety. But I cannot – and will not – make promises.”

Because he’s not going to give his word to these people. Oh no.

“All of us?” Cambres asks. “I can take care of them.”

“How?” Kolya says at once, still making no promises – or giving any sign that he intends to.

“Leave us locked somewhere. Somewhere we can wait until... until my people are leaving, and then we’ll go too. We don’t know anything the others couldn’t find out about you in a matter of minutes, so we’re no threat to you.”

The commander appears to consider this for a moment, resting his knife-arm on his knee – the gesture deliberately less-threatening without being anywhere close to non-threatening.

“All right,” he agrees. “You give me information I can use, and I’ll spare your lives.”

By this point, the third man is affecting complete disgust. He is not, however, conscientiously objecting. The second man merely looks relieved.

“There are just a hundred of us in the city, unless they’ve called for re-enforcements. We all came in through the Stargate, so no one can escape using ships other than the ones here. Although people might try that.”

He takes a breath, then tries to move a little. “The emitters for our cloaks are fitted next to the skin. If you can get them working again, you could mask yourselves. They would be able to sense these on scans, and you might go undetected.”

The third man grudgingly cuts in, his tone condescending: “Although we don’t often operate so... invasively... the people chosen were mostly picked for their dedication. You are unlikely to persuade them to leave without a good bargaining position. And unless you intend to blow Atlantis up, I’d like to see you try.”

“Think as loudly as you can about something that isn’t incriminating,” Cambres offers. “It will... distract.”

“Sorry to interrupt the party,” Rodney says, his equipment folded up. “We **really** need to move soon. I can see others approaching. Multiple others.” He walks over, standing just behind Kolya.

“I’m not sorry,” Cambres says quietly, suddenly looking at Rodney. “This is what we do. I knew that. I just don’t want to die. I still believe in it. I just... don’t want to die.”

Rodney stares at him for a moment, then shakes his head. “Really, **really** need to go now.”

Instead of making any kind of reply to the information he’s been given, Kolya merely gives Cambres a very odd look indeed. It certainly isn’t like any of the other looks that the man’s been getting recently. “I know,” he says, without elaborating. “I think that’s the crux of it.”

He’s either being very self-aware, or just deliberately cryptic.

Standing again, Kolya glances at Rodney. “Agreed.”

But before he turns to leave, he glares at the Moirans one last time. “I should warn you – if your people _ever_ come near mine, you **will** regret it. I will make sure of that.”

And then Kolya’s moving away, needing to be elsewhere before his resolve is overwhelmed by aggression and he decides to kill the third man anyway. Making deals can be so very tedious at times.

Before they go, Rodney ducks down next to Cambres. “Can you tell me... where?”

Cambres nods downwards. “Right side of the chest.”

“It doesn’t... drill electrodes in you or anything?” Rodney asks, moving the man’s clothing aside to find it. Cambres shakes his head no, and Rodney manages to pull it off. “Huh.” Then he looks between the hostile man and apparently insensible woman. It’s a hard choice. In the end, he goes for the woman – hoping she won’t come to when he has his hand in her shirt. She doesn’t.

“Thanks,” he says distractedly. “And... you’re wrong. Sorry.”

Then he gets up, sweeps all his things under an arm, and is at Kolya’s heels. “Come on. We need to go left.”

As soon as Rodney is ready, Kolya sets off. He doesn’t look back – and he certainly doesn’t look happy, his step taking on a distinct stalk-esque edge. Only when they are a good distance down the corridor does he finally say anything, though his tone is level when he does.

“Where to now?” he asks.

“The jumper bay. We said we’d meet Sheppard there. Then... the gateroom, I guess....”

Oh, wonderful. Sheppard again. Kolya nods, expression blank. “All right. What about the people you detected moving in this direction?”

A man who has just been injured as badly as Kolya has should NOT be looking for a fight right about now. The fact that he _is_ is... telling. 

“The... oh, them....”

In truth, Rodney wanted to leave the room more than anything else, and the conversation in there had been getting to him, too. He pulls out the datapad. “We’re fine. We should take this transporter.”

Conveniently, this one here.

Kolya nods. “Good.” Though he still doesn’t sound particularly thrilled to be avoiding further risk of death. Or, more accurately, further chance to cause it.

He steps into the transporter, trying to force his mind to focus again. All of these what-ifs are not helping.

The teleport is instantaneous. So, too, is the door-opening. The door opening on two rather startled Moirans.

Startled because a teleporter filled with people invisible on scans but very visible in person just arrived, one of them in the middle of explaining what he did with Sheppard’s gear, in case they get split.

Then that one almost jumps a mile, and is immediately trying to bring his zat up to bear.

This is... welcome and unfortunate in equal measure, as far as Kolya’s concerned. Welcome in that he wants to shoot something. Unfortunate in that doing so is a little trickier when half-trapped in a transporter.

Still, life is challenge, and so on.

He raises his zat at once, firing on the closer man, the energy bolt striking home before the startled target has a chance to move.

The second man gets his gun up faster – which isn’t a surprise, considering Rodney is still carrying the pulse generator and the datapad... he fumbles for his zat, then levels it in time to see muzzle-flash and smoke.

And then he’s driven into the back of the transporter, firing madly with his finger locked into ‘pull’.

The other man falls shortly after.

Kolya turns at once, having processed this series of events amidst a sudden burst of anger, aggression and shock, all of which fades in the face of his response.

“Rodney? RODNEY!”

For a man with a nasty injury, still in a confined space, he moves _fast_.

Rodney is convinced he’s shot. He saw the flash, heard the bang, felt the push backwards. He isn’t hurting, but he dimly recalls somewhere learning the shock kills the pain for the first few moments, before your life becomes living hell.

He wonders if he’ll die. He hopes not. Not – oh circularity of circularities – in a teleporter.

Pale, he looks at Kolya with a kind of wistful, surprised expression, then looks down. And sees the unhappy mess of one EMP generator which has pulsed its last. The poor machine is punched almost through and giving off a high-pitched electronic death-wail.

“Did he shoot me?” Rodney asks – somewhat airily – as he stares down at the dead metal in his hands. Almost convinced, but not ready to raise illusions of health to be dismantled when the generator proves not to be a heroic martyr of yet another unasked-for war. It gives off a small, rather pathetic drift of grey smoke, which dies after a breath or two, and then the noise stops.

So utterly horrified by this turn of events, Kolya is actually speaking before he’s completely worked out what’s going on. “Rodney! Are you all right? I think—” and this would be the point at which he realises what happened, evident by a slight change in the pitch of his voice “—he hit the pulse generator.”

This realisation does not stop him grabbing Rodney’s arm, needing acute evidence that the other man is all right. It’s a second in which Kolya could be having a whole swathe of flashbacks, echoes of so many deaths, yet – oddly – the only other person he thinks of is Pranos. Which must be because of the suddenness, and not any other connotations with Dagan.

Then he’s checking Rodney’s chest, desperate to prove that the bullet _did_ hit the generator instead. Which it did. And that is almost enough to turn a man religious, just so he can invoke the names of a thousand gods in thanks.

“You’re all right,” Kolya breathes. “He only hit the generator.”

“You’re sure?” Rodney asks, the shock of it all still keeping him from catching his stride for a moment, two, and then he can move under his own power again and is patting his chest down thoroughly, in case the bullet is hiding somewhere. But no. No blood. No tear holes. No nothing – not even mechanical blood.

Then he relaxes visibly, and it’s like his strings are suddenly cut… because all of a sudden his knees bend and he’s leaning against the wall, trying not to have a panic attack.

“No. No. You’re right. That’s all they got.”

Eyes closed. A breath. Two. Then he turns the generator around to look at it. A bitter smile creeps across his lips. “But that’s one generator that will never, **ever** work again. It’s fried completely.” Pause. “And so is our only valid detection, too.”

Rodney’s head thunks backwards into the wall, and he slaps the datapad to his forehead. “Perfect. And oh. There’s another three people coming. We might want to move. And move the evidence, too. Before the shock really kicks in and I get adrenaline let-down, which – I have to tell you – is not fun at all.”

There’s a certain tone of voice people only employ when they’re being casual against their will. And considering Rodney is never one to trivialise his own safety, it’s possibly telling that he still hasn’t actually complained. Perhaps he’s now gone that one step too far and is in that state where humility temporarily abides. At least until the task is done. Perhaps.

Perhaps he’s still just too shocked. Hard to say, really.

Kolya keeps his hand on Rodney’s shoulder until the doctor is ready to move again, attempting to offer some kind of re-assurance without saying too much. Because that doesn’t always help, and he knows – without even needing to watch Rodney’s reaction, the look in his eyes, the unnatural edge to his voice – that the man is not at all happy.

This, of course, is entirely understandable.

But as he gives Rodney a moment to re-centre himself, Kolya realises just how close this was. He’d been so caught up in thoughts of hatred and revenge that he let himself get distracted.

Just like on Dagan. Which would be why he thought of Pranos before.

And Kolya remembers the promise he made to himself, months ago, on the Planet of the Dinosaurs. That no matter what, he was going to bring Rodney McKay back alive. Silently, he makes that promise again, the fresh focus flashing in his eyes.

At Rodney’s words, however, Kolya snaps back into action. Without waiting, he tugs on the doctor’s shoulder to urge him out of the transporter, intending to push the stunned Moirans inside and send them off... well. Elsewhere.

He is, however, planning again. This is a good sign. Unless you’re a Moiran, of course.

Rodney doesn’t fight the suggestion to move – which his natural stubborn streak would have kicked a fuss over if he was more himself – and steps outside the transporter, looking at the pad to gauge distance, speed, direction...

“If we run, we can get to the jumper bay before they know we exist,” he says, looking up to meet Kolya’s eyes.

And yes. This is Rodney in ‘do what you must’ mode: all complaints drowning under the full and present sense of danger. It’s quite a personality change to witness, even if you _have_ seen it before.

Kolya doesn’t like this. Doesn’t like it because he wants time to make sure Rodney is all right, yet knows full-well that it’s time he doesn’t have. The next best thing is continued action, therefore, and he meets Rodney’s eyes at once, trying to convey all the words he wants to speak in one single expression instead.

“Let’s go,” he answers.

The resolve on Rodney’s face falters for all of a few seconds, then he swallows it back down, to be dealt with later. And his response to Kolya, too. That all gets relegated behind saving the city and surviving.

Which is why he’s leading them furiously towards the jumper bay, watching the scanner and messing just a little with his zat. He’d still rather not kill, unless it’s absolutely necessary. He has enough therapy to deal with already.

Staying more or less level with Rodney – ahead meaning he can’t see him, and behind meaning he can’t defend him from anyone they might run into – Kolya keeps his zat up. He’s starting to slip into a very pragmatic headspace, the kind where everything else falls away; everything but the mission, the objective.

It’s not really the kind of headspace you want him in, though it does reduce the likelihood that he’ll stop to finish off everyone he attacks – if only because it takes too long.

The door to the jumper bay does not leave much scope for stealth. Rodney pauses outside it, reading the pad for signs of life.

None.

He frowns. “I can’t see anyone. I... oh. Either Sheppard isn’t here, or people are in cloaked puddlejumpers. Perfect. No wonder he suggested here.”

“We need to move inside carefully, and ascertain if the colonel is nearby,” Kolya replies. “If we use the ships for cover, we should be able to search the area reasonably quickly.”

And thereby not get shot at again. Though if Sheppard is here, he’d better be paying attention. The last thing Kolya wants is a shootout with the wrong person.

“Right. Yes. Of course. Do you want to...” Rodney makes a complicated hand gesture which looks nothing like anything remotely military of any form, but which means ‘go in the ranky thing on flanks like Sheppard normally does with Teyla or Ronon or Ford’.

However, the words for this are complicated. And the gesture is much easier to do.

Genii field signals and Atlantean field signals are not the same, though Kolya gets a vague idea of what Rodney is trying to say. However, instead of even attempting a reply in gestures – of any kind – he opts to speak again.

 _Sometimes_ , it seems, words _do_ win over actions. Though not often.

“We’ll stay close together. I want you to follow me and watch our backs. If we need to take cover, don’t wait for me.”

Rodney frowns his disapproval. He doesn’t verbally object, but he doesn’t verbally agree, either. No way in **hell** is he letting this all go wrong.

“Should we go around the perimeter?” he asks, because it sounds like the sort of thing people do.

Kolya nods. “Yes. We’ll have better cover from anyone who might be on the upper levels, and it will give us better access to the ships.”

If the colonel is here, and _is_ lurking in a cloaked puddlejumper, however, finding him is going to be extraordinarily difficult. Hopefully, the man will have enough common sense to make himself known – without risking his position, of course. Because that would be foolish. And without opening fire. Because that would be excessive. Mostly.

Rodney nods. And then he rolls his shoulders, lifts datapad and zat and backs up a bit.

“Okay. Ready when you are. Just say the word.” Which is stupid. No one ever says ‘the word’. It’s a very strange phrase.

Possibly on the cusp of certain death is not the best time and place to think about things like that, though.

Pausing for a second, Kolya wonders if he ought to be saying something else, instead. But he can’t, not now, and the words are once more choked back, subsumed under a single, understanding look.

And then, ready for this, he says, “Go,” before bursting quickly into the jumper bay, zat ready to shoot anyone who might be waiting to leap out at them.

Jumping backwards was possibly not a good idea, but at least Rodney doesn’t fall.

Nothing happens. Not yet, anyway, and Rodney’s whipping the zat around and around, looking for something to shoot or be scared of. But there’s nothing.

Nothing. Just the echo of his own boots on the floor.

“How does he expect us to find him?” Rodney hisses loudly. “Search every single ship?!”

“I would _hope_ ,” Kolya says, deliberately keeping his own voice quiet, “that when the colonel spots us, he will have the common sense to say something – or, at least, to give us some sort of sign.”

He moves slowly, constantly checking the area and trying to get a good view of the upper levels at the same time.

Rodney sighs and continues to affect patience and awareness. But straining to hear and see everything, to catch the barest flicker, makes it all the easier to sense them when they aren’t there.

Then, he has an idea.

“If it really was Sheppard, or could think like him, he might take cover in the jumper we came back in. Or in one that means something... the one we usually use...” Rodney nods to his right. “We should look over there, first.”

“Agreed,” Kolya says, before starting to move off towards where they left the puddlejumper some time previously. Yes. _That_ puddlejumper.

Now. The trick is to stay visible – so Sheppard would be able to spot them – without fully breaking cover – so they could be easily shot at. Maintaining the balance is more challenging than it seems.

Rodney is less cautious – he simply is not good at this – and walks more openly to the ship. But before he draws level with the rear, it’s clear there’s been some kind of scuffle.

Carefully he circles around behind, where the rear hatch lies open, and the basic contents are scattered on the floor.

No body. No blood. He looks up worriedly at Kolya. “This does not look good.”

Oh no. Not good at all. Of course, it’s _possible_ that Sheppard was never here, and that one of the Moirans has just happened to raid this particular ship.

But the universe is not going to be that simple.

“No,” Kolya replies, keeping the ship in his line of fire in case anyone turns out to be hiding in it. “It does not.”

Rodney takes one last look around the bay, then slowly goes inside. “Sheppard? Are you here?”

No answer. Rodney starts to look more thoroughly, and examine the mess on the floor.

Letting Rodney check the ship, Kolya keeps watch outside. “If Sheppard _was_ here, we need to find out where he’s gone. If the Moirans have him, it will be... problematic.”

Problematic in that, all past issues aside, failing to stop the Atlantean military commander being killed by hostile invaders is unlikely to help the diplomatic situation.

“Is there anything useful here? Or anything that might offer a more detailed clue as to what happened?”

Rodney rubs a hand over his eyes, trying to get some feeling and thought going. “From what I can see, it’s been turned over in a hurry. I can’t think of anything important that’s missing, unless Sheppard put something here himself. It must have been the shape-changing bastards.”

He kicks at some of the medical supplies in annoyance. “All there’s here is food and medical supplies. We should take more bandages, but that’s about it.”

Damn. It was such a good idea, too.

“No one’s turned up in all the time we’ve been here,” Rodney goes on. “If Sheppard was here, he’d know to keep an eye out because we don’t show up on scans. And if anyone was planning on leaping out at us, we wouldn’t – obviously – show on scans, but they would have heard us by now, and had this ship covered. I think it safe to say we’re alone here.”

And oh. Would that he’d be saying that in a better situation. Rodney digs out something from his pocket, then something in the wreckage of the floor. This he tosses over with one of the disguising cloaks he took from the Moirans. “We should put these on. If we can sneak up to someone without them seeing we don’t exist on scans, wearing them might buy us a minute or two. If you apply them to the padded band-aid, we can probably assume they’re safe, even if they aren’t inactive.”

Kolya agrees entirely with Rodney’s assessment of the situation – evidenced by the nod he gives when Rodney makes it – though he does not like it, of course. This is all working up to something; he can feel it – something that is perhaps going to be more difficult than what’s come before.

And considering that he’s already been shot, and Rodney has narrowly avoided being _killed_ on two separate occasions, this does not bode well.

The Moiran cloaks, however, offer a flicker of very real possibility. If they play this right... “We might be able to get into the control room,” Kolya says, turning the device over in his hand. “And I think we need to do so if we’re going to resolve this.”

Rodney nods, then picks his way over the wreckage – trying not to stand on anything. Then, in an unusual fit of something approaching action not immediately self-interested, he holds out his hands to offer to put the device on. “Here. I can do that. Is... is it still hurting? Well, of course it’s still hurting. Is there anything I can give you for it?” he asks.

Then a sigh. “We should have some kind of idea what we’re going to do and say before we go in. Something other than ‘if you don’t leave I’ll give you the common cold and wipe out your entire race’. And I don’t even **have** a cold at the minute.”

“It... is all right,” Kolya lies. He’s extremely good at lying, but this time is so blatant that he decides to add clarification. “I am managing.”

And that’s true, in a way. If nothing else, he’s got a lot more to distract him than _last_ time. He is rapidly becoming the Pegasus galaxy’s foremost expert on shoulder wounds, however.

He lets Rodney help him with the Moiran cloak – if only because it offers a fleeting moment of contact between them, and that’s remarkably welcome. Right now, he feels a little... distant.

“Agreed,” he replies. “If we walk in there, we’ll need something to keep them from shooting us as soon as they work out we’re not their allies. You know how to disable their disguise generators. Maybe we can use that against them. We won’t be able to use deception, though – not if they can read minds.”

Which Kolya still really, really does not like the idea of.

Rodney is careful putting the cloak on Kolya’s good shoulder, and he checks the bandage on the other while he does so. Then he tuts and picks up another to plaster it on. “You’re better safe than sorry,” he says. “Trust me. I did a lot of medical reading at college, and then I did more when I knew I was coming out here and couldn’t trust anyone not to kill me by using a lemon-scented wipe or something.”

He finishes off his ministrations, patting Kolya awkwardly-companionably on the good arm. “They can’t read our minds perfectly, but we can’t be sure what we can hide. We do, however, have control of the gate. And...” he clicks his fingers. “What about Genii relays? How powerful are they? Would we be able to bounce a signal from Atlantis to any of your satellites? Now we know how to unmask them, we could threaten to call your people in. Even if they won’t come, we can still let them know about the Moirans, and it will cost them a huge tactical advantage. Of course, it’s long-term damage, but if we offer to let the ones in the city leave before reinforcements arrive... it might just do the trick.”

“If your own relays are as powerful as I expect, then yes, that might well be possible,” Kolya replies. “They might even prepare a squad to come out here, if I phrase the request the right way – although they would not risk gate travel without clear word from me that it was safe to do so.”

No one wants a repeat of _that_ incident, after all.

“I can try to hack into the relay from here. We’ll send the message. Then your network can start spreading the information too. If we have them at a disadvantage... but we need to do this before they work out where I hid the Stargate. No one else nearby has the interstellar craft to come help us if they monopolise it...”

“We should act quickly,” Kolya replies, with a nod. “But we may need something more substantive than that when we attempt to get into the control room. Something more immediate that we can use against them...”

And then his eyes flicker, as if he’s just thought of something – and it’s definitely one of _those_ thoughts. Because suddenly he looks... well. More serious than before.

“We have the self-destruct codes,” he says. 

“I don’t want to blow Atlantis up,” Rodney points out, calmly. Because the thought had crossed his mind. “Not with everyone in it. Not unless there really **is** nothing else to do. They’ll know that.”

At this, Kolya’s look... well. Gets worse. It gets worse in a way that even he wouldn’t want to engage with – certainly not now, at least. And possibly not ever.

“They know you wouldn’t,” he states. “But they know I would.”

“Then... you go ahead and think that. In the meantime, I’m going to try the reasonable method.”

The vague smile is entirely artificial. Because whilst he’s considered the option – it’s only been in cases where the Wraith would take Earth, or where all of the city was evacuated.

Not all of the city and ‘visitors’ present, too.

“Which is?” Kolya asks. He sounds calm enough, but his tone is tellingly hollow. Because – on one level – he would destroy the city. If he had to. Die-hard pragmatism is a fickle ally.

“I offer them escape. And as much time alive as it buys them, if they can avoid being found out for what they are. And a delay before we tell the whole damn galaxy. And if that doesn’t work...”

Then you threaten them while I come up with a better Plan 9.

“...if that doesn’t work, we will have to threaten them.” Which is not Kolya being overly aggressive, or overly inclined to follow plans of action that might involve blowing things up. This is just... how the thinks.

And he knows Rodney isn’t happy with it. Of course he does. It’s merely that he has no other suggestions for clearing a whole swathe of people out of Atlantis just between the two of them.

Oh. And maybe Sheppard. If they ever manage to find him again.

Rodney ducks his head, but nods it gently. “Is there anything else you want, or should we go on?”

His voice is subdued. Sad. The kind of voice that sounds tired deep down inside. And oh, he’ll need one hell of a rest when this thing is done. When. Not if. Positive thinking. Yes.

Though more than a little concerned himself, Kolya nevertheless lays a hand on Rodney’s shoulder, gripping tightly, in what he hopes is a reassuring way. “We are going to get out of this,” he says. “We’ve come this far, and we can see events through to a suitable conclusion.”

Oh look. Genii Positivity again. The last time Kolya really tried Genii Positivity, Rodney was almost eaten by a dinosaur. The commander chooses not to draw attention to this, however.

Rodney snorts. “Between the two of us, when both of us seem too stubborn to die... yes, we probably can.”

Although it’s getting so fraught again that all he wants to do is run away and hide. Wants to. Doesn’t mean it’s what he will do.

“We should get going,” he says, a little awkwardly, looking at the door. Deep, meaningful situations and he never got on well to begin with. And it’s possible he’s more than a little shaken now, which would make the whole thing that little bit harder.

“Indeed we should,” Kolya agrees, the other thoughts pushed aside for later. “We’ll head to the control room, and—” hopefully “—end this.”

One way or another. Hopefully, the way he has in mind, as opposed to Plan B. Because no one likes Plan B.

Carefully, Kolya checks the area around the puddlejumper before stepping out of immediate cover, staying alert as he moves. It would be just like the universe to drop an ambush on him right about now.

Rodney is slightly less stealthy than Kolya, but he does have his lifesigns detector. He does, however, manage to stay somewhat verbally subdued.

The jumper bay still seems big. As big as it did the first time he saw it. Funny how the mind can shrink things to fit.

“If it comes to it, I can do it. I mean, enter the codes. I’d prefer not to, of course. But if we have to, I can.”

“I know,” Kolya replies. And he does.

But hopefully, there’s a way around all of this that _does not_ require the complete and total destruction of Atlantis, along with all their deaths.

Still alert – force of habit overriding the presence of any kind of technological aid – Kolya starts moving towards the main bay door, which leads back into the city passageways. “Any idea how much power is left in these Moiran cloaks?” he asks.

“Not a clue. Why, do you want to activate them?”

Rodney is patting down his pockets, making sure he has the camouflage cream. He has. And the area is clear... he leads them towards one of the more direct approaches to the gateroom.

Kolya nods. “If we’re heading to the gateroom, it would be wise to activate the cloaks first. That way, anyone we might encounter will not present a problem.”

By which, of course, he means ‘not cause us to get into another skirmish which ends up with us leaving more stunned and/or dead Moirans lying around.’ Because they tend to give the game away when their associates find them.

Rodney’s face betrays his unease plainly, before he even says something. “If we trust that man wasn’t lying, and that they won’t just kill us when we activate them. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be electrocuted or turned into... into a za’tark just before we save the day...”

Six of one. Half a dozen of the other. He looks equally torn. “Pick one. Yes or no?”

“I don’t think he was lying – not about this, at least,” Kolya replies, clearly thinking carefully. “But this is more your area of expertise. If you think this course of action is likely to be safe, we should take the risk, because the tactical benefit could be crucial. If you don’t, then we will find another way to get into that control room.”

He tries to sound confident, but it isn’t easy, given everything. Plus, he’s now wondering what a za’tark is, and why he wouldn’t want to be one.

It’s because it’s his responsibility that Rodney doesn’t want to take the risk. Because it’s his responsibility if it goes horribly wrong. But the need is great...

If it was just him, he’d feel less afraid of doing this. But it isn’t.

“It... it might work. I honestly don’t know enough about it and I’d have to investigate it thoroughly. We could… take the risk. But it is a risk.”

“The Moirans we captured obviously didn’t have a chance to do anything to the devices before we took them,” Kolya reasons, “and whilst it’s possible that they’ve been rigged to harm non-Moirans, it doesn’t seem the most likely thing they would choose to do. We should take the risk.”

Of course, by ‘we,’ he actually means ‘I.’ No sense in risking both of them. And there’s no way he’s going to let Rodney get killed, especially over so simple a choice as this. The moment he finishes speaking, Kolya reaches up to the Moiran device he’s wearing, tapping the button that he’s fairly confident – from watching Rodney examining the object earlier – is the equivalent of the on-switch.

The device does nothing. Rodney frowns, then moves to fiddle with it – and then it isn’t Kolya. Or, it is, but it doesn’t look like him anymore. Rodney was expecting it, but it’s still a little startling.

“Say something?”

“...I appear not to be dead.”

Which is as good a ‘something’ as anything. It’s also a rather welcome fact. Because whilst remaining adamant that Rodney not be allowed to get killed, Kolya also has every intention of surviving this himself, as well.

“Well... looks fine. Sounds fine.” Rodney puts out a hand, to see if there’s a difference in size from the image. It’s hard to tell. But it **seems** to match. Even clothing outlines. How very, very clever.

Rodney fiddles with his – and then his image shifts, and so does his voice. “How does it look?”

This sudden switch is odd, though understandably so, and Kolya gives Rodney an interested, almost appraising stare. “Deeply impressive, even considering how well we know these disguises work,” he replies.

This device would be almost disconcerting, were it not clearly a shockingly valuable piece of technology – and another that Kolya suddenly rather wants to get hold of for more long-term use.

“Should we turn off the sensor cloaks?” Rodney wonders aloud. “It’s fifty-fifty either way. Either someone could wonder why we suddenly show up on the scans, or someone could wonder why we **don’t** , when we run into them.”

The new voice is strange. Disconcerting. American. Rodney brushes ‘his’ body self-consciously. And tries not to appraise it.

This is a slightly trickier issue. Kolya – apparently mid-way through avoiding appraising Rodney’s alternate body just as much as Rodney is trying to avoid it – considers it for a moment.

“If they’re watching scans of the _whole_ city, then as soon as we uncloak, they’ll realise something is going on. But if they’re unlikely to be watching everywhere, then we should risk it – because when we get to that control room, they _will_ notice if we don’t show up.”

And then... Rodney clicks his fingers. “If we stand outside the room the others are in... switch them on there, move fast enough... and it will have to be fast. Before anyone comes looking for them.”

“Right. Us two. The weaponry we have... the codes I have... anything else, or...” is this the big push?

Rodney wants this over. Yes. But committing to the... deed itself... brings it here. And now. And it would be much easier if it could just all be done with already. Much. Much easier.

“I think we are as prepared as possible, given the circumstances,” Kolya replies. He tries not to look or sound ominous, but the fact is, this _is_ ominous. They’re going to have to play this by ear and make it work first time, whilst operating with absolutely no backup plan.

Ordinarily, that might be an attractive challenge. But not if it could get Rodney killed.

Still trying to ignore the fact that he now looks and sounds like an Atlantean, Kolya says, “All right. Let’s do this.”

Oddly, Rodney is mostly disturbed at his own sudden switch of accent. And Kolya’s. The voice change and the eyes is what is throwing him more than anything else, and the sooner they can turn these damn things off, the better.

He pockets almost everything he can stow temporarily without seriously making this more dangerous than it already is, but the closer they look to the Moiran invasion force, the better.

Then they are at the door, and Rodney listens for a second, before turning off his shield cloak and removing it. He checks to see that Kolya can do the same.

And then, too disturbed by the projected images, he briefly lays his fingers over Kolya’s heart, then nods. “Here goes nothing.”

Kolya returns the look, returns the nod – lays his fingers over Rodney’s for a second – and then turns to the door. Breathes.

And they step inside.

After what happened before, it might have seemed reasonable to hope that _this_ wouldn’t happen again. But apparently, fate has other ideas in mind – for on walking into that room, the pair find themselves staring at _another_ pair. Standing in front of them, John Sheppard and Elizabeth Weir are facing each other, guns pointed squarely in the other’s direction. Sheppard looks resolute. Weir looks calmly determined. Both look... real.

Internally, Kolya groans. He should have guessed this would happen.

Rodney has all but forgotten his disguise, the shock at seeing his two good friends like this a little too much to cope with, on top of everything else.

“Colonel! Doctor!”

At least he remembered to use rank and title. Small mercies, if nothing else.

And then he fumbles for his zat.

“What’s going on?” the man who looks like Sheppard asks, hardly glancing from the woman who looks like Elizabeth.

The situation works itself out in Kolya’s mind helpfully fast. If he and Rodney look like Moirans, then they can quickly ascertain if maybe-Sheppard or maybe-Weir are Moirans – because one of them could be. It’s highly unlikely that they both are – no reason to lie in front of their own people – though possible that neither are.

Kolya much prefers firm answers, which – to some extent – he can get by playing along with the Moiran disguise, and seeing what responses this provokes.

But before he can even say anything, the woman who may or may not be Doctor Weir flicks a glance over in the disguised pair’s direction. “I could use some help, here,” she says, that same calm determination in her voice. “Colonel Sheppard is causing difficulties.”

If anyone had reason to doubt the identity of the two, and were looking at Rodney, it’s safe to say that their suspicions would be confirmed. The shock of this, on top of everything else, has managed to get past his defences, and he looks for all the world confused as hell.

And then, fortunately, something clicks, and he remembers these may not be his friends – that likely, one of them isn’t – and that he is disguised.

He turns and points his zat at Sheppard (who is on the other side of Kolya to him) so ‘Elizabeth’ can’t see what he’s pointing, and tries to catch the other man’s eye, to let him know what is going on.

He can’t – yet – quite bring himself to point at Elizabeth, real or no. “Ma’am,” he says, a little awkwardly, still staring at John, who catches his determined stare and frowns. Well. His attention is got, if nothing else.

“I ain’t the one causing trouble,” Sheppard claims, then gestures lightly with the butt of his gun, keeping the barrel still pointed steadily throughout.

Apparently-fake Weir nigh-on glares at apparently-real Sheppard. “Then lay down your weapon, Colonel. You will not be harmed. But you appear to have lost the advantage. Shoot me, and my people will retaliate.”

Kolya, meanwhile, is thinking fast. Very, very fast. His eyes barely flicker, though, and there’s no hesitation when he speaks. “You should do as she asks, Colonel,” he says, taking a couple of slow steps in Weir’s direction, as if moving to back her up. “This situation is already unbalanced enough.”

It’s possible this is meant as a clue. It’s also possible the commander is merely making a veiled observation.

“An’ let you take Atlantis? We were ready to trade with you. What is it with people we want to trade with turning nasty on us?” he asks, then... does he see what Rodney is pointing at him? It’s possible he does. It’s also possible thinking too loudly about the ruse was a bad idea.

There is no way in hell Elizabeth herself would speak like that. Rodney finally accepts the fact, and turns to point his zat at her. Hoping to hell she doesn’t shoot.

“You have no idea how much I dislike you right now,” Rodney tells whoever they are.

Probably-not-Elizabeth seems almost surprised when Rodney does this. “What is going on?” she demands. “It is the Colonel you should be pointing weapons at.” But if certainty about what _is_ going on hasn’t fully dawned yet, it will soon.

This is not a good development. Kolya tries to wonder why Rodney’s grip on the plan appears to have faltered – without actually thinking anything of the kind, in case likely-not-Weir is trying to read his mind.

The very fast, hopefully-veiled consideration speeds up, as Kolya tries to evaluate rather too many possibilities all at once. Resigned to what looks like the best alternative, he continues moving towards not-Weir, still trying to appear defensive of her. To add to this effect, he deliberately chooses to reply to Sheppard’s remark.

“Perhaps, Colonel, you should make more of an effort not to aggravate everyone you meet,” Kolya says, and then – wishing this had worked out more like he’d intended – he turns to point his own weapon at not-Weir as well.

“Surrender,” he insists, his disguised voice nevertheless picking up his intonations perfectly. “Because I must warn you, even if you manage to kill the Colonel with your first shot, you will **not** get time for a second.”

“You know, if this is someone’s idea of really sick fun, I’m not impressed,” the man who is probably Sheppard says.

Rodney turns to face him – forgetting to keep his zat trained on the likely Moiran. His head is beginning to hurt with what could possibly be a lack of blood sugar, but could also, very likely, just be tension.

“We want our city back,” Rodney says, attention swinging between one and then the other. “I think both of you should put down your weapons first, though.”

Potential-Sheppard’s eyebrows hit record heights. “And I should listen to you because...?”

“Because you two are pointing weapons at one another, and we are pointing weapons at you,” Rodney says. “I think it’s a good reason to demand you disarm.”

“I see no real reason to do that,” likely-not-Weir replies, her voice still impressively calm, given the severity of the situation. “This is a standoff, and it will end when more of my people get here.” But even as she speaks, she’s looking at Rodney – looking a little intently, as if trying to read him.

Part of Kolya – the raw, deep, angry part which cries out ‘over sixty men!’ at the merest mention of John Sheppard’s name – doesn’t want to give the man any reason to trust them. Would be happy to see possibly-not-Weir blow the man’s head off should all of this get out of control.

But he can’t be like that, not now. He has to be the man he’s become, not the man he was. And that’s why, instead of staying silent, instead of doing one of the more underhand things that crosses his mind, Kolya simply looks over at Sheppard and says, “Because of Narsil.”

He really is going to have to find out what that means.

Rodney glances at Kolya when he says that – not, of course, having seen the blade – and then glances back and forth at the pair of them. It seems a very odd time to start citing Tolkien trivia, and if anyone starts with the _Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo_ crap, he’s really going to lose it and shoot everyone.

“Rodney? That better be you,” Sheppard says, his eyes darting back and forth between all three of them. “And can I say I hope you have a better plan than this, if it is you.”

Plan. Plan. Rodney’s face goes distressingly blank for a moment, then he’s staring at the Weir staring at him. “Yes. A plan. You can see we figured out your camouflage technology. We also figured out how to disable it. And it’s something we could easily spread to all our allies, and all the allies of the Genii people, too. Who – I’m led to believe – would be especially eager to learn about your activities, so they can put a stop to them. So. Yes. We do have a plan. And the Stargate. And you currently have very little transport off-world. So.”

Don’t think about the Stargate, think about... Narsil and an army of the dead, dead Ancients rising to protect the city they abandoned... oliphaunts and elves and things...

Not-Weir still looks unimpressed, though there’s a slight flicker to her expression – and one that, though it seems to be concern, might actually be something much worse. “You think you have the advantage here, Doctor McKay? Yes, I know who you are. I know now. And though it seems that you are winning, you are not. You really think the three of you can defeat my entire attack force? The shield doesn’t always activate in the last seconds, Doctor. Sometimes you’re too late.”

Realising what not-Weir is doing, Kolya tries to catch Rodney’s eye. “Don’t listen to her,” he says. “We are on top, now.” Possibly a bad way to phrase it, but apt enough. This said, he turns his glare back to not-Weir. “He’s right,” the commander states, bluntly. “We have worked out your plans and your technology, and soon, news of your methods will be spread to every world known to the Atlanteans and the Genii. And believe me, however many enemies you have now, you will soon have a great many more. Stand down, and no more of your people will die.”

But, still looking unimpressed, not-Weir merely gives him a seemingly calm smile. “Oh really, Commander? So now you would see Atlantis saved instead of shattered? You would fight with them, after all they did, simply for him? You’re pathetic. Walking a lie because all those years of truth are suddenly too much, burying all your dark little secrets on the whim of a single day? My people will see this mission through – just as yours could not. And when they do, perhaps then you will understand.”

“And how many of your people have Rodney and Kolya taken down? Or me? And you haven’t captured us, all this time. I think you need to reconsider how effective we are,” Sheppard says, taking a step closer to Weir, who still looks distinctly unimpressed by this. “You really don’t want to piss off Rodney. I’ve seen him pull some damn miracles out of his ass, and he clearly knows more than you do. And me and Kolya? You better be hoping you like being stalked to the grave, whoever you are.”

Rodney’s voice – filtered as it is – holds determination again, the tone modulated by some considerable worry, though. “The shield might not always activate, but the wormhole won’t activate at all without me. I’ll blow it up. I’ll blow the whole city up, if I have to. And believe me, even without access codes, I could do it any time. I’d like you to find one of your people who could say the same.” Not even Radek could think that.

“And you leave Kolya alone,” he adds, voice dropping to a worryingly sharp snarl. “Some things are more important than conquest, idiotic national separation and pride. And not just on a personal level. If you had any common sense whatsoever, you’d realise your best defence is to leave Atlantis while I offer you the chance, rather than wait to be picked off by whoever gets here first. I haven’t been too late yet.”

Though he could be very thrown by what not-Weir is saying, Kolya kicks the thoughts back, refusing to let himself be distracted now. This may well surface again in the future, but not yet. Not whilst he can sense a possible end to all this dancing so close.

He also feels an incredible burst of gratitude – and pride – at Rodney’s words. At Rodney rising up to defend him, to defend them. Hell, even Sheppard’s little speech makes him double-take, a fleeting sign that maybe all of this will work out. That everything he’s done, on the ‘whim of that single day’ was worth it.

Because it _was_ worth it.

“They’re both right,” Kolya says, keeping his weapon pointed squarely at not-Weir’s head, expression both determined and more than a little dangerous. “We made it this far and we will see this through. Because if there’s one thing all three of us believe in, it is refusing to quit.”

Not-Weir continues to stare them down, looking resolute but perhaps a little concerned now. “Really? Then make your move... if you can. Try to kill me. Try to blow up this city. In the end, you only make matters worse for yourselves.”

Rodney doesn’t want to blow up the city. It wouldn’t take an empath to realise that. What he does, however, is walk over to the panel just further into the room, where he can start to break back into their own communications systems.

He does not, however, say what he is doing.

“Put down the weapon. The Stargate is gone, and you won’t find it in time. If you back down now, we’ll let you go. Hell, even give you a fighting chance, considering,” Sheppard points out.

And then the woman who isn’t Elizabeth moves as though she’ll lower her arm – and snaps it round to point at Rodney. Sheppard is yelling and firing immediately, but the shot bounces from yet another form of shield – which ripples green before it fades again – either invisible once more, or maybe even gone. Either way, she’s now aiming at Rodney. “Only Doctor McKay is capable of blowing this city up alone, or of contacting any of your allies. If I kill him, my people will find the Stargate and we will leave here with what we came for originally. Now. Please put **your** weapons down.”

Sparked instantly into action, Kolya fires along with Sheppard, stopping when he realises that not-Weir is shielded. Shielded and still aiming at Rodney.

And now, Kolya looks more than dangerous. He looks ready to do a lot worse than just kill the woman – something which shows clearly in his voice as he speaks. “I don’t think so,” the commander half-growls, with the kind of glare that could incinerate lesser men at twenty paces. “If you had what it takes to kill him, you already would have. Now stand down. Because I promise you, you do **not** want to find out what will happen if you lay so much as a finger on **my** lover.”

As if to emphasise this, he lets one or two select images move to the fore of his mind – so that if not-Weir even tries wandering about up there, she’ll get a headful of... well. Something she’s unlikely to want a headful of.

Rodney’s hands are moving furiously over the panels, and he is most studiously not looking up at all. Better to get this message sent. Better to get it out there, then she has no choice. Then – then if it all goes wrong, it won’t be in vain. Then...

Sheppard’s voice is also worryingly dark, devoid of anything one could possibly consider leverage potential. “Lock all the doors, Rodney. Lock all the doors everywhere. She’ll never get anyone in here in time.”

“I can’t do everything at once,” Rodney complains, but does it anyway. Not that anyone can tell. Not unless they’re reading his mind, that is. “Please sort this out.” Narsil?

“There are three of you,” not-Weir points out. “The rest of your people are incapacitated. But still alive. My men could kill them in minutes, as soon as I give the word, and we could still be away before anyone you might contact could arrive. Step away from the console.”

“I doubt that,” Kolya throws back, though his tone remains controlled as he speaks. “It isn’t how you operate. You didn’t come here to kill, and despite having a number of opportunities, several of your people have passed up the chance to do so during their encounters with us. Oh no. You don’t have what it takes... but we do. Which you will discover if you so much as attempt to prove me wrong.”

Not-Weir speaks without looking at him – at least, looking in the conventional sense of the word. “So we reach another standoff. You swear bloody murder if I don’t surrender, and I swear bloody murder if you don’t surrender. And if Doctor McKay really has locked us in here, then we have reached an impasse. You have the benefit of numbers, but I hold the tactical advantage. It would seem that things are even.”

Amidst the swathe of memories in his head, Kolya finds the only appropriate response to this. “I don’t like even.” And then, in a sudden burst of movement, he yells, “Rodney, **duck**!” whilst launching at the Moiran, mind now blazing with hate.

If nothing else, it’s very motivating.

Being told loudly to duck just makes Rodney panic, and he tries to duck at the same time as hit the last few codes in to unlock the communications system. Which he does. And then he starts yelling instructions to the room – to anyone who could possibly pick up the broadcast – furiously getting as much of the information out as possible and refusing to look over the other side of the console he’s hiding behind.

The bullet that hits the wall behind him snaps back enough to catch the outside of his arm, but it’s something he can’t even register right now.

Sheppard, meanwhile, is hefting a zat gun at the pair, not wanting to shoot if it will only stun Kolya, and not not-Weir past her shield. He swears. Loudly.

“Rodney! Tell that to everyone. Let **everyone** out. And take down those cloaking devices, too, if you can.”

“Anything **ELSE** you want?” Rodney asks, now standing up again – leaning on the bulkhead and eyeing the mess of limbs, looking beseechingly at Sheppard.

All Kolya is aware of – aside from a sudden swathe of movement and shouting - is precisely what he’s doing, and that involves attacking not-Weir as fast as he can. He doesn’t attempt to shoot her again – no point if that shield is still operational – focusing instead on a more physical attack.

Which, in all honesty, he prefers anyway. He deals the woman – if she _is_ a woman – a sharp crack about the head with the zat he’s still holding, which provides enough momentum to throw them both to the ground. There’s a short scuffle, though thanks to a) having the advantage of the first move, b) having the advantage of the first successful blow, and c) being a rather violent individual, Kolya has the upper hand fairly quickly.

Before not-Weir can shoot him, he wrenches the gun from her hands and tosses it aside, now pinning the Moiran with a considerable amount of force. She glares at him. He glares back, though is at the same time flooded with a blaze of relief on seeing that Rodney _didn’t_ get killed.

“That was quite a risk, Commander,” not-Weir hisses at him. “I almost killed the good doctor.”

“Yes, you did,” Kolya replies, with a deeply nasty look. “And if you had, believe me, you would already be regretting it. But given that you did not, this will be much simpler.” He draws his knife with a quick, sharp _chink_ and jabs it against her neck. “You will call your people off.”

Sheppard eyes the pair on the floor, but says nothing. He doesn’t approve – this much is clear – but this is probably mostly because it’s Kolya and it still looks like Elizabeth, and because he isn’t involved. Not that anyone will notice his disapproval, and not that he cares. Instead, seeing the ‘woman’ pinned, he moves instead to cover the doors, where people are now starting to congregate, although they hold for now.

“I locked them,” Rodney says, without looking up, hoping all the Terran technology is turned off. “They can’t get in just yet.”

And then he manages the EM pulse. Not a huge one, considering the tools he has to hand, but there’s a sudden shudder, and everyone in the room but Sheppard changes back.

And the people outside, too.

“I need to get to the labs before I can EMP the whole city. But I can let people out, if you still think it’s a good idea,” Rodney tells Sheppard, even though he’s watching Kolya and... whoever it is.

Oddly glad to be himself again, Kolya glares once more at the person beneath him. It is, in fact, still a woman, with the same cold expression in her eyes. It’s more than outmatched by Kolya’s, however – especially given that that little fight did no good to his shoulder, and it now hurts rather a lot again.

“This ends now,” he says, pressing the knife closer still. “You tried, and you failed, and it’s time for your people to go – before I lose what lingering self-control I have and kill as many as I can find.”

“Go ahead, Commander,” the Moiran woman taunts. “Do it. Kill me. I’m sure your new allies will be pleased.”

Sheppard glances back over his shoulder. Then he looks at Rodney. “Rodney. Tell them what you told her. See how many of them believe in being stubborn to the end. **Then** we can deal with her.”

Rodney nods again, and patches into the city’s communication.

“This is Doctor Rodney McKay of the city of Atlantis. We have taken control of the command room, and have your leader captive. We know how to disable your disguises. We also informed most of our allies, who are no doubt currently spreading the information amongst their friends too. We have the Stargate, and you have no ships. If you surrender your weapons and agree to leave, we will let you leave alive.”

Then he switches the speaker off. “You know, there’s a reason I don’t normally do the diplomatic thing.”

Kolya glances over at Rodney for a second. “That was perfect,” he says. Which, if they’re going with the let-people-out-alive plan, it was. Right now, Kolya would rather be somewhat harsher. But... he knows that won’t go down well. And so long as nothing else happens, he can cope with the compromise.

In the meantime, he turns his attention back to the Moiran leader. “It would help matters if you spoke to your people and told them to co-operate,” he points out.

She glares back, clearly – and understandably – bitter about all this. “Why should I make things any easier for you?”

Rodney sighs and offers her a response: “Because I can inform my people how to unshield yours, then let them loose, and soon there won’t be many of them left. And because you might want to leave here alive. In fact, leave at all.”

There’s no response from the Moirans as a group, yet, but that’s unsurprising.

“Where’s Doctor Weir?” Sheppard asks, walking over to the two on the floor, cocking his weapon and directing it towards her head. “C’mon, you can tell me that.”

The thought of actually carrying out an interrogation alongside _John Sheppard_ is not one that sits well with Kolya. On the other hand, the man is already involved, and backing off to argue about it now would be far beyond churlish. Realising that, instead, he’s going to have to play this carefully, Kolya flashes Sheppard a glance, the action designed for the Moiran woman’s benefit.

“You might want to answer him,” the commander points out. “I already want to kill you, so I won’t be stopping him if he tries.”

Which is, of course, entirely true. Nice when things work out that way. Especially when your subject can read your mind.

“...She is locked in her quarters,” the Moiran woman says, looking angry as all hell. “My people moved her there after we took the control room.”

“She better not be harmed,” Sheppard points out, in a deliberately slow, measured voice. All veiled illusion of ease. “Now. I’m gonna give you to a count of ten, and you’re going to stand up, and order your people to surrender. Or, so help me, I’ll shoot them one by one myself. And you know I will.”

Outside, there seems to be a very involved – if very muted – discussion going on amidst the Moiran ranks. Soundproofing prevents any sense of it coming through, although the expressions indicate none of them are very happy.

Rodney takes the chance to run his hand along the ricochet wound scratching his arm. It isn’t deep – and it isn’t dangerous – it’s just damned irritating. And stings. He’s personally thinking some very dark thoughts indeed.

“We’ll have to do **something** soon,” he points out. Not wanting to see what will happen if they don’t show their strength.

Kolya isn’t sure whether he wants to glower madly at Sheppard or clap the man on the shoulder. And once he realises that the possibility of there being any _question_ on the matter was just in his head, it rather makes matters worse.

The thoughts get buried for now, whilst Kolya carefully de-pins the Moiran woman, letting go of her so that she’s free to stand – and slipping his knife away again so as to better point his zat at her. One false move, and he _will_ shoot her. That much is evident.

The Moiran leader, meanwhile, doesn’t wait on Sheppard’s count, throwing the man a furiously distasteful expression before slowly climbing to her feet. Despite the look in her eyes, she moves in such a way to make it clear that she isn’t about to try anything.

Well. Probably. Yet.

“Okay. One,” Sheppard says, lifting his eyebrows. He hasn’t lowered his weapon, of course, and is holding it out at full extension. Just like so many other days more.

Outside, one of the Moirans shoots one of the others. Which makes the Moirans apparently just prone to glowering more, rather than backing down or outright rioting. Rodney’s attention slips back and forth with some discomfort. The Moirans are simply... _weird_... and he’s having a hard time working out any of their reasoning.

So instead, he watches. And prepares to say something if he has to.

As she stands, the Moiran woman is finally able to look out at her people, beyond the door. She looks at them, and they look back – and there’s a moment in which maybe, just maybe, her eyes flicker. There are a number of possible reasons for this – some more welcome than others.

But, stubborn as she is, she doesn’t do anything more yet, now throwing another nasty glance at Sheppard. Possibly she’s waiting for him to say how he wants to play this. Possibly she just likes glaring.

Kolya, meanwhile, gives her a sharp jab in the back with his gun. “I would recommend you do precisely what the good colonel asks,” he says, voice low, trying to ignore all the ramifications of what is turning into... well. An alliance of sorts. With _Sheppard_.

And then, because he’s been desperately wanting to do so for several minutes now, he turns to Rodney, immediately taking in his blood-covered arm and managing to look a mixture of concerned and murderous. “Are you all right?” he asks, moving over.

Rodney has stopped looking at his arm by now. The pressure of a city – and the people in this room – outweighing his inbuilt attention-seeking obsessive hypochondriac tendencies. Not that it’s entirely hypochondria when you are, in fact, injured.

He twists his arm and looks at it again, in a vaguely detached fashion. “Flesh wound, that’s all. Superficial. No real damage, just a lot of blood and it’ll hurt like hell for the next... forever. But I’ll live.” And then some of the normal him kicks in, and he glares at the woman.

“Although it could just have easily have killed me. Thank you so very much.”

Sheppard lowers his head a little, so he’s nothing but eyes above the barrel to the woman. The sudden realisation she could be talking to the others without him knowing is a sudden, unwelcome thought. “Two. You tell ‘em outside to down weapons. Or I shoot you like you shot Rodney.” His head tilts to one side. “Not fatal. Not to start with. Well. Probably not.”

Despite Rodney’s insistences, Kolya still wants to check his arm, and moves to do so, though he keeps throwing glances over in the direction of Sheppard and the Moiran woman. Rodney’s right: the wound isn’t serious, although Kolya would prefer a chance to see to it properly. Events, however, have other things in mind for the moment.

Ignoring anything Rodney may be saying, said Moiran keeps her eyes focused on Sheppard. “Very well,” she says, resignedly – but does not then demand access to the comm. All she does is turn to the door again, looking out at her people for a drawn-out moment. Somewhat unfortunately – though clearly deliberately – she is apparently giving orders by telepathy.

Which is not good. Kolya, for one, wants to know _precisely_ what the Moiran just said. “Do that again,” he growls, turning his attention more in her direction for a moment, “and it will be treated as a hostile act. At which point, the colonel will get to prove to me how well he knows how to tactically shoot people.”

Though it should be noted that, outside the door, the hoarde of Moirans looks like it may be moving to lay down weapons. Probably.

“Head of an off-world, other-galaxy expedition’s security with some of my planet’s best scientists. Hell yes I know. And she knows too,” Sheppard drawls, even as the Moirans outside start to lower their weapons and take a pace back.

This makes Rodney all the more nervous. He stops staring at his arm again – stops trying to work out ways to just glance his fingers against Kolya – and looks feverishly from ‘Elizabeth’ to those outside and back. “They need to be somewhere else. Somewhere safe and contained, before I can get the Stargate working again.”

And then he remembers, and tries to block all thoughts of how and where he plans on restoring the Stargate with rather graphic pornographic replays. Hey. It’s something he can do in depth...

Though Sheppard’s words aren’t a retort at Kolya – and rather an additional threat to the Moiran woman – they still come across as somewhat hostile, and if Kolya’s glaring at Sheppard a little more than before, that would be why.

At the same time, the commander is watching the Moirans beyond the door – looking out for anyone who may be failing to comply with the disarm order. Because, more often than not, someone always does. And once he’s worked out who it is, it will make dealing with them so much easier.

Mid-way through another cold silence, the Moiran woman suddenly looks at Rodney, a _very_ odd expression in her eyes. “I didn’t know that was _possible_ ,” she remarks, without preamble, though her tone is hardly conversational.

Rodney’s cheeks pink a little, but he doesn’t flinch. Instead, he lifts his head. “Brilliance,” he says, “can achieve much that normalcy cannot.” Which is the only comment he’s prepared to make.

“Flip the mic on all of us, Rodney,” Sheppard says, and waits for the nod. “Hi. This is the real Colonel Sheppard of Earth. Now. I want you all to mosey on down to the mess hall. Okay? Weapons down, then go. We can track you with the city’s internal scanners, so please don’t try to hide. We’re very tired of this game, and we might just shoot every damn one of you. So. When you’re ready...”

“...and apparently, you’re more flexible than you look,” the Moiran woman says to Rodney, with a rather nasty smile. This earns her an equally unpleasant glare from Kolya, who – though he does not know precisely what the wretched woman is talking about – may nevertheless have worked out a rough idea.

“I recommend you keep quiet,” the commander half-growls, pointing his gun at her a little more decisively.

Outside, it looks like some of the Moirans are moving. Kolya watches them for a second. “We need to start working on getting them out of this city,” he points out. “And we need to keep hold of _her_ as long as possible.”

Rodney just lifts his chin again, in that ‘I’m above this, really’ way he feigns. And then he thinks some more, just to prove he doesn’t care, and to keep other – important – things far from mind. Because, in all honesty, he’s far too tired and sore right now for it to be anything other than a sado-masochistic, slightly nasty trick.

What he really wants right now is his bed. With Kolya in it.

Sheppard is trying to be blissfully unaware of this as he gets some plastic wrist-ties out of his beltkit, and moves to restrain the not-Weir. “Right. Once they’re in the commissary, we can... do whatever needs doing to the ‘gate, and get our people out and armed. Sound about right to you?”

It’s more than likely that the Moiran woman is still very aware of what Rodney is thinking, and wanting – and that she really is rather malicious when given half a chance. Because what she says next is, “Planning to leave me here, then?”

Which sounds like a simple, if hostile question. It isn’t. Though in all honesty, she might well have got what it looks like she wants anyway, given how forethought and decisive Kolya’s next statement sounds.

“It does,” he says to Sheppard. “At that point, we will need to split up – and one of us will need to remain, to ensure our prisoner does not escape. That person should be me.”

And that means he and Rodney will have to split up again. Which is, most likely, precisely what really-not-Weir wants. 

Sheppard shouldn’t really be as happy about leaving the woman with Kolya as he is. Not because he thinks – well, much – that Kolya might use the opportunity to take Atlantis anyway, if he’s the only one in the command centre: but because he really should worry about what Kolya may or may not do to her. He saw what he did to Rodney.

But. Sheppard is a little darker than he likes to let on, most of the time, and he’s finding it hard not to consider some justice just that. And to keep Rodney away for a while. Because... he really doesn’t much like the thought of those two together any more than strictly necessary. Oh. And Kolya is the most wounded. That too. He nods. “Agreed. Rodney? Can you monitor the biometrics?”

“Already on it,” Rodney says, looking down at the readouts. It’s quite clear he’s avoiding looking at anybody. For all the opposite reasons.

Outside, the Moirans in sight start to comply. None of them look very happy about the situation. Not one bit.

The Moiran woman glowers, though her expression is suddenly a little complicated, and she keeps flashing glances over at Kolya. He, on the other hand, is managing to look very blank, to cover up all the thoughts inside.

Of which there are rather a lot. It’s likely that the Moiran is suddenly avoiding the opportunity to see what they are.

“Good,” Kolya replies. “Then I will stay here. I will be on the radio – if anything happens, let me know straight away.”

Certain technicalities about separation aside, this is all suddenly going rather well. Kolya wonders what the catch is. Because there has to be one.

And then all the work he can do here is done, and Rodney is sealing off the commissary from afar. For the moment, anyway, until he can get down there and do it properly, before every hundred and one other things Atlantis needs him for this time.

So he walks over and touches Kolya’s good arm lightly, nods once.

And although the woman in the room is the only true empath, you’d not be surprised to find out how much non-empaths can convey with just a look, sometimes, too.

Kolya returns Rodney’s nod, and his expression, before moving his attention back to the Moiran. Not long now...

Sheppard, meanwhile, is studiously trying to ignore the looks being exchanged by the other two, his face set into a well-practiced blank facade. For the most part. After a moment, he says, “Rodney, we need to get moving. We gotta get the Moirans secured and get our people out.”

And _then_ deal with the Stargate. Which will take some time. And mean Kolya gets left alone with the Moiran leader even longer. Sheppard pushes those thoughts aside. For the moment... he doesn’t have to worry about them. No. He has more than enough important things to do.

Elsewhere.

Rodney would much rather stay here where it’s safe, and where he doesn’t have to run around, and where he can make sure Kolya isn’t suffering too much, and keep him from being alone.

Alone with _her_. When she knows about _them_.

If nothing else, he’d rather spend a moment or two more and do something stupidly childish like hold hands, or curl in tight and stroke backs. Breathe. Shudder. It’s all his mind is asking for. That and some coffee, some chocolate and a nice, comfortable bed.

He does not look at all happy when he looks at John. And he likely wouldn’t care enough to hide his unhappiness tactfully if he realised what he was doing. “Yes. Of course.” He loads himself up again, presses the last few buttons. “I can go whenever. We can go whenever. Now, actually.”

And now he can’t look at Kolya again, because the stress and the tension is piling up so high he might not cope. So. Head ducked. Shoulders bowed. Oh, but he’s going to need a lot of time to recover after this, he knows already. If he ever will.

John manages to keep his expression set, although it’s difficult when Rodney is looking at him like _that_ , all big, open emotions that aren’t particularly challenging to read – and all of them clearly connected to the one person whom Rodney is now _not_ looking at.

This really isn’t easy at all, but Sheppard knows the best thing he can do is stay focused. And stay occupied.

“Then let’s move,” he says, gesturing at the door. “Where d’you need to go first?”

Rodney’s response is purely professional, even if the sad, resigned tone is not. “Find Radek. Or we’ll be here all night. Uninstalling is easier than re-installing. Or... or lock them in the commissary? We could get Kolya to make sure none of them leave on the scanner...”

If Sheppard needs any more than a second to consider this, it doesn’t show – and if anything, he looks even more resolute and assured now.

“We should get the damn Moirans secured before we go anywhere _near_ the ‘gate, ‘cause I for one don’t want _any_ of them causing trouble where it’s concerned,” he says. “Once they’re out of the picture, we can find anyone you need to get everything running again. Well. Within reason.”

And yes. Leaving Kolya in the control room the whole time would be a very good idea indeed.

“Okay. And Elizabeth. We need to find Elizabeth.” Rodney leads him to the transporter fairly rapidly, then hits the panel.

“...Narsil?” he asks, as the doors open.

“Absolutely,” Sheppard agrees at once. “Provided that woman wasn’t lyin’ to us, Elizabeth should be in her quarters.” Which will, at least, make looking for her a fairly quick and simple task.

Well. Something about this day... night... whatever... should be.

At the word, Sheppard’s expression darkens a little. “Y’know when we all swapped and marked things, to prove who we were? Well, Kolya gave me a knife – one of _ours_ , actually – and I wrote ‘Narsil’ on the blade. Somethin’ he wouldn’t get, but I knew you would.”

He does, however, refrain from making further commentary on said knife. So far.

Rodney looks into middle distance for a moment, thinking. “I wonder why he had that. Maybe he picked it up in the armoury. It’s where we got the zats and guns.”

And we’re.... walking. Down the corridor and up the stairs. Well. Not the stairs. Just the corridor. And then there’s the door. He hits his microphone to talk while he’s working. “Rodney here. Acastus, have you seen anyone other than us moving around?” he asks, as he starts work on sealing the Moirans in.

Sheppard shrugs, not wanting to say what _he_ thinks, because it would be... unhelpful. “‘s possible,” is his only answer.

He falls silent once Rodney hits the radio, hoping – for a number of reasons – that this will be a short conversation. “Not so far,” comes Kolya’s reply, apparently quick and easy – which sounds like a good sign.

Even so, Sheppard’s keeping a close eye on the surrounding area. Having someone watching your back on the internal sensors is indeed helpful... but it’s hard not to want extra reassurance if said someone happens to be a Genii. Especially _that_ Genii.

“Good. Well. It looks like we have them contained, now. Although we’ve probably jinxed it because it seems far too easy. Try not to explode over there. This probably means the ‘gate is irreparable... right...”

Button button button.

“Think I have this done, now. Yes.”

“There will be no explosions if I have any say in the matter,” comes Kolya’s next reply. “As far as I can see, you have the Moirans contained, but I will keep watching – in case any of them have picked up one or more of our evasion tricks.”

At the end of this, Sheppard turns back to Rodney. “Good. All right. We need to find Elizabeth and Radek, and then get that damned ‘gate working again.”

“Radek first... no... Elizabeth... Who is closest?” Rodney rambles, thinking aloud.

“Elizabeth first,” Sheppard decides. “She needs to be brought up to speed about what’s goin’ on.” Plus, after having spent some time around that... woman... who looked like Elizabeth but really wasn’t, he’d prefer to reassure himself that the _real_ Doctor Weir is all right. 

Rodney nods, yes. Then he rearranges all of everything to be in the right hand. Correct hand. To hand. Then re-rearranges, to make sure it’s right.

Then he starts walking.

“Did someone time this especially?”

Oh yes, Sheppard thinks. Someone must have done. Someone clearly wanted to break up your weekend with the man who, on his _last_ trip here, had you tortured and tried to kill me.

Sheppard is not exactly happy about matters. But he manages to keep his remarks to himself.

“Probably,” he replies. “Though I doubt your timetable was of key importance, so you shouldn’t feel too picked-on.”

Maybe when they find Elizabeth, _she_ can start being the diplomatic one.

“Well, why not? It does seem something of a coincidence to be right when I’m at my most distractible – as I’ve clearly proven my capabilities in identifying and neutralising their technological advantage. _And_ I know when people are hiding something.”

He pauses. For effect. “Like Chaya.”

...You just _had_ to bring that one up, didn’t you? If Sheppard looks suddenly stony-faced, it’s because he’s trying to behave. It’s not clear, however, how long his resolve will last.

“That was different,” he insists. “ _She_ wasn’t tryin’ to take over the whole damn city. And I doubt very much that these guys cared where you were, so long as they knew.”

“You don’t like it that we practically saved this city without you, do you? It always has to be Colonel Sheppard. Colonel Sheppard saves the day. Well... it isn’t just you. And they very well **could** have been waiting for this. And no, she wasn’t trying to invade the city, but she left her own city to die just so she could have a little slap and tickle with **you**. Whereas here, we had to stop our fun to save you, which is entirely different.”

Sheppard snaps. “I don’t like it that you could easily have gotten killed, and I _certainly_ don’t like having _him_ runnin’ around the city, armed to the teeth! And quite frankly, Rodney, no, I don’t like owing anything to the man who tried to kill me twice, tried to kill _you_ God knows _how_ many times, tried to steal our city, our ZPM, and then _did_ steal our chief scientist!”

At the end of this, Sheppard realises that he might have just lost it a little. He also realises that he doesn’t particularly care.

“He brought me back! In one piece! And yes, he did all those things. But what about the things you did to his people? You had to, he had to, and we can all go around hating one another for it or we can **get on with life** and be happy we won’t **have** to do that any more. Not if he or I have anything to do with it.”

By this time, Rodney’s forgotten to keep an eye out for Moirans. He often forgets things when... well... enraged.

“We aren’t dead, and we’ll have the city back any minute now, and then when we have I will happily take any debts you feel you might have to him and satisfy them myself. Okay?”

It’s a good job the walk is not too long.

“I did what I had to do, and he did what he had to do – and I’m sure he hates me for it as much as I... don’t like him. Probably more. ‘Cause of the part where I won.”

When John Sheppard really Gets His Bitch On, he does not stop. Plus, he’s feeling more than a little wound, and rather unappreciated.

“And that is information I didn’t need, Rodney.”

He manages not to say anything else. He does, however, glower a lot.

“Seeing as both of us are exhausted, **and** hurt, it’s not going to be like **that** for a while so you can get your mind out of the gutter,” Rodney scowls.

“You hating him you can do all you like, but I’d prefer it if you kept it to yourself and didn’t cause any problems between him and me, between the Genii and us, or between us. You and me. Because... if you can’t get over this then it’s going to be hard for me. I’ll work with you, fine, but I thought we were friends.”

Pause. Breath. “So. Please. Try to see this from his point of view, like he has yours, and maybe you’ll stop letting personal hatred get in the way of more important things. Like we did.”

At the door. Rodney has his palm over the panel, waiting for John to reply before he unlocks it.

“Trust me,” Sheppard insists, “my mind is nowhere _near_ any kind of gutter.” Thank you very much.

“As I would hope this evening’s unexpected ‘entertainment’ has proven, Rodney, I have not _been_ letting my feelings get in the way. I recall practically _saving_ the good commander’s life a little while back.”

He sighs. It would really help if he didn’t have to talk about this whilst... doing this. Different this-es, though.

“Look. We **are** friends, Rodney. And I for one don’t want... anythin’ else... to get in the way of that. Never did. I just... This isn’t easy to get used to. Okay?”

“Just like he’s been saving yours. But you could do it with some _grace_ ,” Rodney retorts, suddenly looking, for all the world, wounded. “Don’t you think it was hard for me? Harder? He... was going to shoot Elizabeth... he didn’t... he didn’t because I told him not to... this is... Look, _please_ can you just... be nicer to him? I’m not asking for bunnies and roses, it’s just I hate knowing that you and he would happily shoot one another if it wasn’t for me. And I don’t want either of you shot.”

Then he turns to the panel, steadfastly ignoring Sheppard’s face to free Elizabeth as fast as he can. “You might want to comm her,” Rodney adds, not wanting to talk any more.

 _Again, you mean,_ Sheppard thinks. But doesn’t say it. In fact, though he wants to say more, he refrains from doing so. Maybe... on some level, he understands what Rodney is trying to tell him. Maybe he even accepts it.

Either way, he’s more businesslike as he answers, “Good point,” and taps his radio. “Doctor Weir, this is Colonel Sheppard. Do you read?”

It ought to work, now. Now that the Moirans are no longer in control. Hopefully.

There’s a second or two of pause before a response comes through. “Colonel Sheppard. Is that really you?”

Rodney had forgotten about **that** fun. “Yes, Elizabeth, it’s him. And me, too. I assume you heard the city-wide broadcasts, although I also assume you didn’t entirely believe them, either.”

And then the door is open, and they can see Elizabeth standing at the room’s comm link, her own radio having been confiscated. She looks... harassed – understandable considering she’s been cooped up in here – and glances back and forth between them.

Rodney rubs his forehead. “Okay. Quick way to convince you... ah... okay, no, don’t think you’d want to hear that... you wouldn’t know to know that... Telepaths! The most irritating thing since time travel paradoxes!”

The identity-proving thing really is getting tiresome, but Sheppard wouldn’t exactly be happy to go on without it. He doesn’t add anything for the moment, however, waiting to see how virtually-certainly-Elizabeth responds to Rodney’s words – and watching her eyes the whole time.

Just in case.

Because you never know.

Elizabeth frowns deeply, clearly trying to work through the various implications of telepathic invaders and the proving not-thereof. It is something that the SGC trains for, but the practice is almost impossible without some external benchmark.

“I heard announcements, yes,” she says, cautiously. “But you understand why I might not take them at face value.”

“Yes, yes,” Rodney says, waving a hand in fluster. Then he pulls out the knife again. Shows her the writing. The correct handwriting, too. “This is what Colonel Sheppard, Commander Kolya and I were identifying ourselves with. Now, I know that doesn’t really prove it’s us, but it would be a bit of a length to go to just to prove to you that we were who we said we were by having things we’d proved we were who we said we were to one another. If you... well. Follow.”

Oh yes, the knife. Because Sheppard _really_ wants to be reminded of that again. He bites back the thoughts, textbook-impassive – and if he realised precisely how much like a certain other individual that little mental manoeuvre makes him seem, he likely wouldn’t be happy about it.

“Elizabeth, look, we don’t have long,” John says. “Please just... trust that this is real and come with us. We need to find Doctor Zelenka and get the ‘gate operational again.”

And stay occupied. And active. Sheppard likes ‘occupied and active.’

Elizabeth’s eyebrows arch when she reads – and recognises – the word written on the knife blade. Of course. “Well. It certainly _is_ elaborate, if it is a trick. Go on then. Fill me in. And get the ‘gate... operational?”

And then she’s out of the room, tugging at her top, looking from one to the other to see what harm’s been done.

“Yes, yes, I had to hide it temporarily to stop them taking everything. A minor miracle considering it was just me and Kolya, but I managed it. It’s getting it back that will be harder,” Rodney tells her.

Glad that Elizabeth seems to be accepting this, Sheppard immediately sets off in the direction of Zelenka’s quarters, speaking as he moves. “We’ve re-taken the gateroom,” he tells her, “and captured the woman leading this attack. As per her orders, her people are moving to the commissary, so once Rodney and Radek get the ‘gate operational again, we can send ‘em all through.”

And get rid of them. Sheppard does _not_ like people invading his city.

“And Commander Kolya currently has her in custody,” Elizabeth says, mostly to herself. “Well. Good work, gentlemen. Truly.” All told, she’s wondering, just a little, exactly what she’s needed for right now. Especially now that Kolya is probably working his own diplomatic method, and hers is somewhat.... defunct.

But still. She is the leader.

“Yes,” Rodney concurs. “And that’s about all the plan so far. I say ‘all’, but really, it’s quite a comprehensive plan and an effectual one with room for coping with the inevitable disasters we’ll find before long.”

“That’s right,” Sheppard answers, levelly, without saying anything else. Because. He’d rather not talk about the good commander any more than necessary... especially when, on one level, he rather agrees with what the Genii is likely doing right now.

They get to Zelenka’s quarters soon after, and as they do Sheppard immediately taps his radio. “Zelenka, this is Sheppard. Do you copy?”

Almost at once, a response comes through – in the kind of tone Radek is known to use when somewhat annoyed. “I am not falling for that again,” he insists.

“Doctor Zelenka. This is Doctor Weir. I have Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay with me. I know you have no definitive reason to trust we are who we say we are, but for what it is worth, I assure you it is. We want to come and meet you and get you to help Doctor McKay. He has hidden the Stargate, and needs you to help him reinstall it, so we can send those who tried to take the city back _out_.”

Elizabeth’s voice is calm and sure. Rodney doesn’t even look too put out being made to wait.

“That’s right, Radek,” he says. “She’s telling the truth. Kolya and I were out on the mainland, and when we got back a fake-you tried to get us to go to my room like good little boys. Now I can explain all this until we both die of starvation or old age, but you know as well as I do Elizabeth is right: no matter how plausible we sound, we could still be lying, and you have no way to tell.”

“Exactly,” Radek concurs, over the radio. “If you have some way to prove this to me, now would be a good time to do so.” He sounds rather sceptical, which is more than fair, all things considered.

Sheppard, meanwhile, glances at Rodney. “Can you get the door open?” he asks, knowing full-well what the answer is, but opting to ask instead of just... order. He’d rather not make things between them any worse.

“You **know** there isn’t any way to prove it to you, even if we did a DNA test, you don’t know the Moirans can’t alter their own DNA or make you think you see the results they want you to. Now if the ‘gate **is** hidden, why would the Moirans do that, and if they hadn’t, but we were them trying to fix it, why would we need you with so many hands free?” Rodney asks, not even bothering to look at Sheppard as he opens the door fairly easily, all things considered.

Elizabeth is glad she doesn’t have to reason through this. She doesn’t know the technicalities at all well enough. And reasoning, bargaining – diplomacy – without the knowledge the other party has, or the ability to bluff said knowledge... is nigh on impossible.

“Doctor Zelenka,” she says with a polite smile and a head-bow, as Rodney jimmies the door.

Radek looks ever-so-slightly surprised at the sudden movement of the door, staring at the group outside as if he almost wasn’t expecting to see them there. In response to what’s been said, he manages an impressively resolute expression. “All right. I will trust you on this. But please know that if you _are_ lying, my team will stop you eventually.”

And this is said with such... firm loyalty that Sheppard can’t help smiling at it. He is, however, still in a hurry to get going.

“Yes, yes, we know, we know, now can we get on with this?” Rodney asks, impatiently striding off again. It’s entirely possible he’s feeling the strain of non-presence. It’s entirely possible this shows.

Elizabeth nods and smiles, lifting her brow a little at Rodney’s impatient leading and Radek’s dogged posturing. Really. These people make her so very proud sometimes. “All right. Rodney, do you need Colonel Sheppard and mine’s assistance? Or would we be better elsewhere?”

“We should stick together,” Sheppard cuts in – politely – at once. “We don’t know where all the damned Moirans are yet, and if some of them are still prowling the corridors it’d be better if none of us was left alone.”

Radek, meanwhile, stays close to Elizabeth, waiting for a decision – and more information as to precisely what has been done to the Stargate. It’s amazing how much can go wrong when you’ve been locked in your quarters for a few hours by alien invaders...

“Here,” says Rodney suddenly, as they arrive at a transporter. “Come on. We’re almost at the jumper bay. And... don’t even ask how I got the ‘gate there in the first place. Let’s just say I’m a miracle worker and deserve the rest of the month off, as soon as we get these bastards out of my city.”

He slams his hand on the button. Elizabeth smiles.

You do not piss off the Canadian.

***

“Commander Kolya. Commander Kolya, come in. This is Doctor Weir. Doctor McKay and Colonel Sheppard are with me. Can you read me?”

The radio crackles, and then... “Kolya here. Go ahead, Doctor.”

“Can you give me a status report? We can confirm the Moirans are detained in the commissary. We are initiating the second phase of the plan now.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard’s voice chimes in. “Things are... fingers crossed... looking good.”

There is an abrupt, Canadioslovakian noise in the background. It sounds... irate.

“...kinda.”

“Everything is under control,” comes the commander’s reply. “No one else has attempted to gain access to this room, and the Moiran leader remains in custody.”

If Kolya is aware of the background noise – and he likely is – he doesn’t comment.

“That’s good news,” Elizabeth says, even though it feels uncomfortable saying it. To... him. Now. “Rodney thinks we’ll be along shortly. Weir out.”

“NO NO NO! RADEK THAT WAS MY FOOT, ARE YOU TRYING TO—”

The line closes.

The hangar bay is ready to open. This time, there won’t be a cloak.

***

It’s a shame there aren’t more people around to watch as the magnificent Atlantis Stargate is returned to its rightful place – because it really is quite a sight. But besides the four Atlanteans responsible – directly or indirectly – for making said event possible, the only other observer is standing in the control room, arms folded. Watching and smiling.

Shortly after this, the four Atlanteans head up to the control room – where something of a scene is waiting for them. The Moiran leader is lying on the floor, unconscious and rather bloodied. It looks like someone has taken a knife to her somewhat repeatedly, cuts marring her arms and her sides.

The obvious someone in question is currently further down the room, at one of the consoles. Kolya looks more than a little bloodied himself – though save for the gunshot wound to his shoulder most of this blood is likely not his. He also looks very... determined... about something, though. Resolute, perhaps.

When the Atlanteans walk in, Kolya turns to them at once, not seeming remotely affected by the prospect of getting more than a few Looks regarding what he’s done.

The four Atlanteans come up to the command room in a distinct huddle. No one wants to stride out first, knowing the others also want to stand up front. The exception being Radek.

The leader, the gun and the boyfriend. After a brief hesitation, it’s the boyfriend who comes through first.

Rodney’s eyes go immediately to Kolya, finding him out with unerring ease, scanning him immediately from head to toe for injury, before meeting his eyes to read those too. He shouldn’t need to look at the woman on the floor – he knew what would happen; all of them bar Radek probably did – but his eyes are drawn to her supine form anyway, even as he berates himself for the sudden urge. He frowns at her for a moment, before he looks back up.

“The ‘gate is back,” he says, avoiding a ‘hi.’

“Commander,” says Elizabeth, with a polite nod and her heels pressed together. The woman on the floor is no surprise to her, either, but she grits her jaw and tries not to think about it just yet. Now is not the time. “I apologise for the circumstances of your visit... but you can see we were left with little... choice in the matter.”

The words are not meant as a barb. Not consciously. Though the irony is not far from her mind, especially not through all this blood.

Kolya returns Weir’s nod calmly, though he’s clearly watching her eyes as he does. “This was not your doing, Doctor.” Which is pleasingly diplomatic, all things considered.

At the back of the group, Radek is now notably quiet, his attention flicking between Elizabeth, Kolya, and the woman on the floor – on whom his attention lingers the longest. He’s heard stories, of course, but wasn’t really expecting to run into anything quite this... graphic. The discomfort, certainly, is clear in his own expression.

Sheppard, meanwhile, is impressively stony-faced, his focus more or less on Kolya straight away. “Did you get anything from her?” he asks. Which he might, later, kick himself for saying in front of Elizabeth. Right now... it’s a fair question. And everyone will know _precisely_ what he means, anyway... the commander in particular.

Almost at once, Kolya shakes his head – and if he’s surprised at the question, this also doesn’t show. “I did not. She passed out rather too quickly.”

Rodney frowns at that. Pissy as Kolya might (understandably) be, she’s still (mostly) Human and it seems kind of... sloppy to have slipped up like that.

Unless Kolya wasn’t trying for information at all. Which would be weird.

“I have to do the final adjustments to make sure the ‘gate is integrated,” Rodney says, looking briefly to the others without bothering to make eye-contact... then frowning at Kolya again... “on these panels here.”

Arms folded across her chest, Elizabeth nods. She turns to look at Radek, to see how he is doing. She wishes he hadn’t seen this. She wishes **she** hadn’t seen this. “Perhaps it would be wise to free Doctor Beckett. And any other personnel you need to evacuate the Moirans from the city,” she says, looking to Colonel Sheppard. “You have an EM Pulse to differentiate, now...”

Radek looks particularly eager to leave the room. _Soon_. “That would be a good course of action,” he concurs with a clear nod, resisting the urge to actually edge back towards the door.

“There’s several people I want freed ASAP,” Sheppard says to Elizabeth. “I’m gonna need them out and armed before we let the Moirans go.” So they can deal with anyone who tries to cause more trouble in _my_ city.

And Kolya seemingly watches them converse, speaking after a moment. “Go and free your people, and I will keep this room secure.”

“All right,” says Elizabeth, thinking it through as fast as she can. “John, you and Radek free who you need. Keep in radio contact with me at all times, and send Carson along as quickly as possible with an escort. Rodney will finish off the ‘gate repairs, and I will co-ordinate from here.”

She deliberately has nothing for Kolya to do. She doesn’t know quite what to do with him.

Rodney nods, looking up from his work only to frown some more, hoping the sudden... distance he’s feeling isn’t as a result of what Kolya’s just done. He knows what Kolya does best. He has done since he met him.

He had _thought_ he didn’t really have a problem with that.

Except now... something feels... strange. And he’s not quite so certain that that isn’t why. “Right. Yes. But I’ll need you to test the dialling sequence outside in a moment, Elizabeth,” he says, burying himself back in his work. “To make sure the connections are true.”

Sheppard nods. “Got you.” He gives Kolya one last look – one which teams of psychologists could have a lot of twisted fun with if allowed the time – and then gestures at Radek. “Doctor Zelenka, let’s go. We need to get to Carson’s quarters.”

Radek is all too eager to comply, and with one last glance in Elizabeth’s direction – in case she wants to add anything – he nods at Sheppard and moves to follow. Within seconds, they’re setting off out of the control room and back down the steps, heading to free Doctor Beckett – and then the others Sheppard needs.

Apparently content with being surplus to requirements for the moment, Kolya stays where he is, though he doesn’t stop watching – attention, understandably, on Rodney.

Both of the Atlanteans are studiously ignoring the woman on the floor, for slightly different reasons. They are also drawn to looking at her... for slightly different reasons.

Rodney wonders, worriedly, why Kolya hasn’t tied her up. She’s still breathing. And while she’s mostly Human, she isn’t **quite** , and there’s no saying that she won’t revive suddenly and try to kill them all. Okay, Kolya was reticent to restrain people before, but...

“Tell me when you need me out there,” Elizabeth says, starting to pace with her hands on her stomach. “Or if there’s anything else... we can do.”

She tries to look firmly and reassuringly and politely and in control...ly at Kolya as she says that, but somehow she feels she fails.

“Right... right... Okay. You can go through, now,” Rodney tells her. “I’m ready to test the first link-up.”

She nods. And go she does. The door closes behind her.

When Weir leaves the room, Kolya looks over at Rodney. “I take it the ‘gate is almost operational again?” he asks, seemingly... conversational.

Down on the floor – currently unseen – the Moiran woman moves slightly. Opens her eyes. Blinks in what would be obvious pain, were there anyone paying attention. She runs her hands down her sides, wincing when this hurts, then raises her hands and looks at them in surprise. _Major_ surprise.

Carefully, she looks around – evidently taking in the room, and where its two other occupants are. Slowly, quietly, she rolls to the side, pushing herself up on her hands, and then, very suddenly, she moves lightning-fast. In one, fluid movement – which is likely to hurt more than she is letting on right now – the Moiran leader leaps to her feet and launches herself at Kolya, slamming him backwards before he can react. In mid-fall, she manages to drag the commander’s still somewhat-bloodied knife from its sheath – and when they both hit the floor?

She stabs him with it. Right through the chest. _Twice_.

And then, equally fast, she lets go of the knife and rocks onto her knees, back still to Rodney, quickly throwing up her hands in surrender – and speaking with utter desperation in her voice. “Rodney? **Rodney**! It’s me.”

Rodney catches the movement – much too late – and has both hands on the panel in front of him before he’s even had chance to speak. The workstation is high but he vaults it perfectly anyway, clattering to his feet and almost instantaneously dropping to one foot, one knee, astride the Moiran woman’s kneeling legs.

The knife is up and pressed into her stomach even as he grabs the scruff of her neck with the other hand, leaning her forwards over the dead man, forcing her face into his.

“Look what you’ve done,” Rodney says in a voice rough with anguish, low in that dangerous way that’s worse even than shouting. “ _Look what you’ve done_ ,” he says, keeping her face hardly a breath away from Kolya’s own still-warm face, the knife in her stomach preventing her from lying flat, even though the elevation makes his legs scream in protest. “You’ve killed him. You’ve _killed_ him. Do you have **any** idea what I’m going to do to you now?”

You do not often hear any man use that tone of voice. It is very, very lucky, because it would make your blood run cold.

“Rodney!” the Moiran woman repeats, that same urgent desperation ringing in her voice, not fighting any of the movement or trying to push back, hands still held out. “It’s me, Acastus – she switched us! She managed to get free, took me by surprise... Rodney, _please_ , believe me. EMP the room... and then, I swear, you can do whatever you want.”

“You’re lying to me,” Rodney says, as resolute and firm as he can. Resolute and firm... and – to anyone who knows him – quite obviously feeling neither of these things. He yanks the knife up higher, forcing her belly in, forcing her to arch her back. His back and legs are shaking under the effort. Mostly.

“You’re lying because you know that’s what I want to believe. You know I’d give anything for it to be true. You want to kill me and Elizabeth and everybody else who matters to me. I won’t let you. Acastus would want your blood and I’ll give it to him.”

Shaking. Shaking so very badly under the strain.

And by god. He’s never wanted to kill anyone before. Not really. Not ever. But now? Now he wants to. _Plans_ to. In the most painful, slow, horrific fashion he can think of and carry out before Elizabeth gets back.

“YOU LOOK INTO HIS EYES AND REALISE YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN A BETTER MAN THAN HE WAS, AND THEN I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.”

That would be the moment Rodney McKay snapped.

“ ** _Please_** , Rodney, believe me!” the Moiran woman nigh-on begs, voice shaking. “You told me you trusted me... told me you loved me... _please_...”

At this moment, the door to the control room re-opens and Elizabeth walks in. “Rodney, is something... _oh God_...” And she freezes, staring in obvious horror at the scene before her, hands slightly up in shock. “Rodney, put down the knife. Please. This won’t help.” Though it’s hard to know what _would_ help right now.

“Won’t it?” Rodney asks Elizabeth, his voice high-pitched and breaking, ignoring everything the woman underneath him – between them – is saying. “It’s what he would have wanted. What he would have done for... for me...”

It can’t be Kolya. It can’t. He’d give anything. **Anything** for that to be true right now. He’d sign over his soul in blood – hers – if it meant this had never happened, never happened at all. All those niggling doubts, the... the... feeling of... no.

He can’t possibly trust the murdering woman in his hands more than the man talking to him only moments before. He can’t. It’s just his mind refusing to face the pain and the guilt. Nothing more. And if he hesitates any longer, Sheppard will come, Elizabeth will win – something will happen and this... this... _monster_ will go free and Rodney will never feel her warm blood on his hands or sleep a second’s peace or...

“Elizabeth... the EMP. I’m not letting go until you use the EMP.”

“All right, Rodney, all right,” Elizabeth answers, in her best, calming tone, trying desperately to get control of the situation – and knowing full-well that she doesn’t have much hope of doing so unless Rodney acts in such a way as to allow it.

Oh, this is not good. Whatever it is, it is _not_ good.

“Where is it?” she asks, still trying to be calm, still trying to fight the intense burst of adrenaline now coursing through her own blood. “The EMP, Rodney. Where is it, and what do I do?”

And still, the Moiran woman doesn’t move. If she’s plotting something, it isn’t obvious. Plus, considering the condition she’s in, just holding that position must be close to agony.

“It’s.... it’s by the console I was working on. Yank the power and the battery from the laptop, then slide the button. It’s already primed to go. That’s all. That’s all you have to do.”

Do it quickly. Do it now. Before I lose what precious little is left of my mind, because my heart’s already gone.

Vigilantly, Rodney doesn’t move either. It’s a testament to sheer bloody-mindedness, and one that would impress even Ronon and Teyla with its impassiveness, were they here to see.

The thoughts in Rodney’s head are... at once maddening turmoil and so far away he can barely feel. This must be what going mad feels like.

The woman can’t be telling the truth...

...then why is she still alive?

Elizabeth moves quickly, doing precisely what she’s been told: powering down the laptop first, then seizing the portable pulse generator and activating it. It’s such a... simple action. No sound. Nothing dramatic. One moment, she’s staring at the scene which accosted her when first she walked in through the door, and then?

There’s a flicker, a slight blurring, and it’s suddenly as if the two people under Rodney have just switched places. Now it is the Moiran leader lying sprawled on the ground, bloodied and dead, and atop her, in Rodney’s grip, is Commander Kolya; alive, yes, but clearly in very poor condition, and looking close to collapse.

He breathes out as the disguise generator deactivates, but does no more than that – still wondering, as he has been for the last few moments, if Rodney really is about to kill him. One look in his eyes would tell you that he believes it _entirely_ possible.

There’s the barest moment’s pause as Rodney lets the image sink in, blinks to make sure he isn’t hallucinating it there in his desperate need, works through to see if there could be _any_ way the woman could have adapted the cloaking device to somehow only activate in an electromagnetic field disturbance... and that’s one serious consideration with so many variables to work through in only a heartbeat that possibly only three other people alive could do it...

...and then Rodney turns the knife flat against Kolya’s stomach, turns the blade out and away and drops it and he loops that arm instead around his partner’s waist, immediately taking his weight, the other hand going around his chest as soon as he has hold, pulling him back upright onto his knees then collapsing backwards onto his ass, yanking Kolya back in towards him, face pressed to his throat to catch the horrible, horrible sound of anguished relief.

He moves so he’s sitting cross-legged with Kolya in his lap however Kolya falls, not letting him out of his arms for _anything_.

“Ohgodohgod I knew it was wrong I knew it I should have done something I should have said I’m so sorry I couldn’t believe I was right I knew I couldn’t cope if you’d died oh god I’m so sorry Acastus, fuck...” The words are horrified, shell-struck and raw. And it’s only a whisper in his ear. Over and over again.

Aware, at last, that he’s _not_ about to be killed by the man he loves, Kolya finally lets himself move – although ‘move’ is a misnomer; ‘collapse’ is much closer. He falls back into Rodney’s arms, clasping his hands over the one on his chest, half-shaking, half-gasping in obvious pain. It’s clear why, as well – the bullet wound on his shoulder is bleeding again, and he’s got several knife-cuts on his right arm and side, one of them looking deep enough to be a stab wound as opposed to a simpler cut. Not all of the blood he’s covered in is his, though – the body of the Moiran leader is proof of that. Whatever happened, he clearly _did_ get a chance to work on her first.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” he whispers, voice cracking. “When I realised what she’d... what was... I had to... I’m sorry... oh Rodney, I’m so sorry...”

Off to the side, Elizabeth is still standing with the pulse generator in her hands, looking stunned. This is... not what she expected. None of it. After a moment, she pulls herself together, ducks out of the room, and starts talking into her radio at break-neck speed.

“Colonel Sheppard, this is Weir. We need Carson in the control room as fast as possible!”

“...I thought... I thought she’d killed you and I’d... I almost killed _you_ ,” Rodney says, as the realisation starts to hit him properly, the hands around Kolya cinching in tighter, not even thinking about how it might hurt, just needing to feel him pressed close, to press the heel of his hand where his heartbeat is, to feel it thrumming still in his chest, not... ripped open and...

“Oh god, I would have. I would have. I’d have killed you and then killed myself when I found out. Oh god. That...” He shakes his head, words failing him as his mind tries to forcibly lock down on that whole concept _right this minute now_.

Then it skips over to the blood loss as an acceptable alternative, now that almost-dying-now is not so terrifying when compared to almost-just-killed-you, and his hands go to the wounds bleeding worst, pressing down hard to reduce the flow. “Stay with me, Acastus, oh god don’t you dare die now.”

Rodney hasn’t noticed Elizabeth leaving. Rodney wouldn’t notice anyone right now. Not unless they tried to take Kolya away. **Then** he would.

Probably kill them.

“I’m all right, Rodney, I’m all right,” Kolya insists – although he clearly isn’t – trying to meet his lover’s eyes despite the challenging position they’re half-sprawled, half-curled in. “And you... you were magnificent... the things you said, and were willing to do...”

He tightens one hand where it is, the other reaching up to try to touch Rodney wherever he can, needing the contact – and needing, more than anything, to reassure the other man. Because now he’s mentally pulled back, and can see what he just put Rodney through... and the realisation is sickening at best.

‘Magnificent’ is not the word Rodney would use right now. Not at all. In fact, when he stops to think about it properly (and he will, over and over and over) the thoughts he will have will not be good. But now is not the time. No. What he did he can’t think about. What he almost did he can’t think about. Keeping Kolya now he knows he can is all he can think about. He won’t meet his eyes at all, pressing his lips to his shoulder and then his jaw, his own eyes closed and his hands warm and slick with blood. It’s everywhere. How much blood can a person _bleed_?

“You’re not all right, you’re bleeding and I have to make it stop so you don’t die or faint and die or die and faint. You have to stop bleeding. Can you hear me? Acastus, oh Acastus...”

Which is when Carson runs in, sans white coat, bag in hand and immediately dropping to the side of the couple, dragging out the things he needs even as he talks. “Commander. It’s Doctor Beckett. I’m going to see to your injuries, now. So you just take slow, deep breaths and tell me how you feel.” First field dressings ripped out of their packages.

“Rodney, lad, can you move your hand and let me put these on instead? I could do with your help for your partner here.”

“What? What? Oh. Oh, yes...” Rodney stammers, moving his hands when the information travels deeply enough, putting them back on immediately after Carson applies the dressings.

Kolya detects the flurry of movement all at once, although it’s a moment before his mind processes precisely what’s going on. When it manages to, he blinks at Beckett, picking up on the question and realising that he ought to answer it.

“I feel like I’ve been shot, stabbed, and somewhat inexpertly tortured,” he says, not so much blunt as... honest. “And like I’ve been running around your damnably impressive city all night.”

He doesn’t resist anything Beckett tries to do – although he does keep his hands on Rodney, needing not to let go, healed more by that contact alone than anything he thinks a whole team of doctors could do for him.

Above this scene, Elizabeth lingers, hands folded tightly across her chest, gripping her own upper-arms, expression set. She’s silent, watching Beckett work, knowing there’s really nothing she can do – and rather wishing there were. For a great many reasons... some more complicated than others.

“Grip Rodney’s fingers for me, will you?” Carson asks, seeing that Kolya is as reluctant to let go as Rodney himself is. If the assessment Kolya gives him bothers him more than the injuries, it certainly doesn’t show. “I think you’ve escaped with no serious nerve or muscle damage... You can move your feet? Good. Good. I’m going to give you a shot for the pain and then put you on a gurney and take you to the medical bay where I can take better care of you. Yes, Rodney, you can come. I’ll need you there. Now this will make you a little more light-headed, Commander, so I want you to talk to Rodney, okay?”

Rodney finally lets one hand turn to Kolya’s when Carson asks him to, and after the grip proves that Kolya can, in fact, still operate his fingers he grabs it back, hard – lacing their hands together firmly and refusing to let go. “I’m here, I’m here, don’t worry I’m not going anywhere, it’s fine.” The other hand moves to stroke over his face, his mouth – gently – over and over, thumb stroking his bottom lip to comfort himself as much as Kolya.

“I’ve survived worse than this, trust me,” Kolya says to Rodney, although he knows this is bad, even considering his own track record. And why does this city – damnably impressive or not – want so much of his blood?

He blinks, trying to focus, aware that his mind is swimming even more now – and fairly confident Beckett has given him something other than just a painkiller. Though perhaps it _is_ merely the bloodloss. It’s hard to tell. But whatever it is, it’s getting worse. Or possibly better. Again, it’s hard to tell.

He blinks at Rodney once more. “Forgive me,” he whispers. And passes out.

Rodney’s expression... is almost exactly like the one he got on a certain planet right before a certain someone shot him. For a moment. Nothing more. His hand keeps squeezing tight, then he looks up to Carson with an urgency that makes his own, previous requests for attention pale in comparison.

“Please. _Fix him,_ ,” he begs, refusing to let go even when Carson calls his assistant in to collapse the gurney and lift Kolya onto it. He doesn’t let go at all but stays right there, holding his hand. Carson doesn’t even blink.

“Elizabeth,” Carson says to her with a nod as they start wheeling out.

“Rodney,” Elizabeth says, gently, a hand on his arm, “we still need you here. We have to get the ‘gate operational, so we can deal with the Moirans.”

It’s not an easy request to make – especially not after what she’s just watched take place. But it still has to be said, and the sooner the better. 

Rodney shakes his head firmly. “Radek can do it. He’s more than capable and he knows what to do. Radek. Don’t make me stay, please.” It is not a refusal. It is a request.

Carson is not happy to pause. He wants to get the unconscious man to proper medical facilities immediately. He looks imploringly at Elizabeth to make this decision quickly.

Elizabeth nods, accepting. “All right. I’ll get him up here as soon as possible, and you... can go to the infirmary.” In a way, she’d thought as much. But the question really, really had to be asked.

With that done, she steps out of the way, clearly letting them go, arms folded tight across her chest again.

Rodney nods and utters a quick thanks before looking back to Carson to see why they aren’t moving again already. Because this needs fixing. Fixing fast.

Carson is all too willing to take the hint, and they’re in the nearest transporter before Radek’s even opened his first door.

***

The infirmary is thankfully empty. One good thing about everyone being locked in their quarters during an alien invasion is no one gets injured but the few unlucky enough to break curfew. And as the infirmary is empty, Carson has had no way to object to Rodney pulling over one of the spare beds into Kolya’s space and power-napping for horrendously brief periods between the constant watchfulness he’s taken upon himself. Constant.

Save for the very brief period when he was herded violently into a shower with the admonition that dirty, smelly, bloody people were a danger to those with multiple lacerations and could lead to said patients becoming terribly sick. Which is why he’s looking presentably clean – if exhausted, worried and rather pale.

At the minute, he’s lying on his side on his bed, watching Kolya’s chest rise and fall, eyes fixed firmly on his heart, making sure it isn’t going to explode. A number of times in the night – day? – afternoon? – who knows? – he’s got up to check that it’s still there, before lying back down on his bed again. It’s likely that paranoia won’t fade for a while yet.

When he notices the change in Kolya’s breathing (again) he leaps from his bed and into the chair, wondering if it’s this time he’ll wake up.

The first moments of consciousness can come in many forms. Sometimes they’re welcome. Sometimes they hurt. Sometimes they’re so full of confusion that one wonders why they’re there. Sometimes, they happen to include all of the above – and a lot more besides.

Kolya blinks – aware, to start with, of three things. Light. Ache. Alive.

He blinks again, trying to focus, and instantly getting that first swathe of remembrance which has a tendency to follow the first moments of consciousness, no matter what form they take. The memories are confused right now, all jumbled and out of order, but one pushes right to the fore – and with it, a sudden, terrible stab of emotion, right in his stomach.

And then he turns his head to the side, aware now of a fourth thing. The most important thing of all.

 _Him_.

Rodney’s hands are wringing on the edge of the chair between his legs as he drags it noisily closer still, his expression one of unblinking worry and relief, his mouth unable to keep from twitching in a nervous betrayal of the confusion he’s still feeling inside.

“...Hey,” he says, trying for steady and calm, relaxing and welcoming, reassuring and understated... not wobbly and obsessive, which is how he feels. And confused. That too. “Welcome back. How are you feeling?”

“...Alive,” Kolya manages, also trying to sound calm – and as though he’s not thinking what he _is_ thinking, which happens to be a rather graphic mental replay of what happened in that control room. He’d give a great deal to be able to forget it – or, more accurately, to let Rodney forget it.

Isn’t it nice to have new guilt to carry around?

“Are you all right?” he asks, not hiding how much he needs an answer to that particular question.

“Few minor flesh wounds, sleep deprivation, mental exhaustion... fine, really. It’s normal for me.” He smiles. He really is trying to be reassuring as hell.

“Do you need more painkillers? Or... or water?”

“No... I’m all right...”

There’s that phrase again. It possibly doesn’t hold the same weight as usual at the moment.

“...what happened? After I... After I passed out. What happened?”

It takes Rodney a moment to decide what he thinks that means. And not: they cleaned you and pumped you full of drugs and blood and stitched you back up and plastered over the cracks and tried to see if I’d gone crazy and was going to try killing anyone else.

“Radek got the ‘gate going. The Moirans were evacuated to a hostile environment and the Stargate kept linked for the full thirty-eight minutes to keep them there as long as possible. Colonel Sheppard’s had teams sweeping the city with EMPs, but there’s been no problem I’ve heard of.”

He hadn’t even wanted to know that much, really. People had told him.

Kolya actually manages a slight smile at this. “So we won without further incident? That’s good. I would hate to have missed some important final showdown.”

...and the thought of there being potentially more to come after what already happened? Really not a welcome one. He’s glad to hear otherwise.

“...But you... after what happened... I don’t mean physically... are you all right?”

The previous lack of answer is answer enough, of course.

The vague smile stays in place on Rodney’s face as he does his best to look in-control, calm, composed, suave. There are few times in life where he’s tried to not let pain show. Where he hasn’t immediately complained loudly and obviously, seeking some form of comfort. Even a momentary pause says a lot.

There’s something in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or was, but a long, long time ago. Long before Atlantis. Long before the Stargate. It’s the kind of grief and horror that indicate a loss of innocence. It’s only there a moment – he’s a better liar than most think – and then he talks.

“I watched you die,” he says, levelly. “I watched you – the single most personal important thing in my life – die in a horrific, agonising fashion, right before my eyes. With nothing I could do to save you. And then? Then I almost killed _you_. I very nearly did. I would have. In front of Elizabeth, with my own two hands. How do you think I am?”

It’s a perfectly reasonable question. Perfectly honest one, too. He doubts the image or the sickening noise will ever leave. Doubts his hands will stop feeling filthy with blood. Doubts he’ll see a knife without watching the whole thing in the reflection on the blade.

He wishes he knew it would end. And he wishes he could say truthfully – no, even lie convincingly – that everything is fine and wonderful and no problem because Kolya is still alive and that’s all that matters and everything else is water under the metaphorical bridge but... he can’t. Not yet. Not now.

He looks down. It feels like a part of me died too. And that you’re already dead.

Kolya closes his eyes for a moment. Consciously breaking eye-contact like that is something he only ever does when absolutely necessary – which is telling enough in its own right. When he looks at Rodney again, his expression is worryingly hollow and... fragile, perhaps?

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, though he knows he’s said it over and over already. “Everything that happened... I... It was all on instinct. I didn’t stop to think. I just... needed her dead. Before she did something. Said something...” _Hurt you_.

He raises his left arm – not out of habit but because it aches less – moving to stroke the side of Rodney’s face, eyes closing again as he does.

Rodney’s head is lowered, his eyes drifting mostly-closed too, but he leans ever so slightly into the hand, moves to wrap fingers gently around the wrist to feel the pulse, neurotically needing the reassurance even with him moving, breathing and talking.

Needing to feel the blood...

Eventually he nods the smallest of nods, knowing precisely what had fuelled the action. Something similar to what had fuelled his own. But it doesn’t make it any easier to forget that he knows what it feels like to watch Kolya die. Most people don’t have to see that once. Rodney might just have to see it twice.

 _We are dead_.

“I know.” Rodney looks up and smiles thinly again, other hand awkwardly hovering before he gives in and lets himself lay it over his heart. Scrunches up the sheets. “ _Don’t you dare ever do anything like that ever again_.”

“I won’t,” Kolya answers at once. He’s so disconnected that he processes Rodney’s words as an order and replies without needing to think – but that is not to say the reply isn’t genuine. Oh no. It is genuine. Intensely so.

Deep down, he’s starting to get a clearer picture of what he did. What he allowed to happen. And it is hurting him greatly, driving at his mind again and again, now starting to include those little games of ‘what-if?’ that inevitably follow at times like this. Not that there is anything typical about this, of course.

“...How long was I unconscious for?” A standard question. But right now, he needs to keep talking. This is also telling.

“...Hours... I don’t know. I lost track of time.” This might be a lie. It might be true. Rodney does happen to lose track of time on a regular basis when occupied and/or tired, but he’s also neurotically obsessive about health and medication and as such, has been awake on a regular, clockwork basis to make sure Kolya’s been getting the right treatment. It’s possible he’s lost count of the cycles, and is only aware of their existence.

“Carson says you’ll be fine if you rest and you’re careful. He says there’s nothing permanent done and – barring infection – you’ll be fine.”

He needs to tell him this. The hand on Kolya’s chest hasn’t moved. Inside, the part of him that’s screaming unvoiced is begging the other man to... something. _Something_. Help him.

But he doesn’t want to talk about it. Clearly. So Rodney won’t either. He has no idea of the first thing to say. “How do you feel?” he asks, again.

“Alive. I ache rather a lot, but all things considered, that is no surprise. And I’m glad you’re here.” He _really_ is. If he’d woken up alone, it might have done things to his mind that don’t bear thinking about.

But he thinks about them anyway.

After a moment, he lays his hand over the one resting on his chest – not trying to move it, just wanting to touch back – stroking the lines of Rodney’s fingers gently, over and over.

“You saved my life again,” Kolya points out, after a moment. “You’re getting good at that.”

“No. I nearly killed you. There’s a difference. I think she must have knocked you on the head, too,” Rodney replies immediately. Nervously.

The tension does not leave his hand.

“I... sorry I should have... realised it wasn’t you sooner.”

“You knew,” Kolya says, sounding utterly, utterly sure of himself. “On some level, you knew.” Otherwise you would have killed me on the spot. Though he deliberately doesn’t add this part.

“I don’t know. I... I didn’t want her to be playing me, to know how much I wanted it to be true. I didn’t know if she was in my head, or...”

Or... what. Although. It... felt like he knew. He isn’t sure. The hand on Kolya’s wrist tightens and he stares him straight in the eye. “I. Almost. Killed you.”

“But you _didn’t_ ,” Kolya reminds him, which – in his own head, at least – is the vital crux of the issue. “For whatever reason, you didn’t, and I’m still here. You’re still here. And that is what matters.”

He tightens his own hand over Rodney’s, not looking away from his eyes now – his own expression still agonised, if full of surety at what he’s saying.

Rodney holds his eyes for a long moment before they drop again, as his shoulders do too. He can’t let go of... that. It’s crawled inside his chest and the terror just won’t go. And the terror at realising just how much he really does rely on Kolya’s continued existence as part of his own.

And then, just before he would break, he grabs him in an awkward hug – desperately trying to avoid injuries and pull him into his chest at the same time.

Don’t you know you’re dead?

Wrapping his arms up around Rodney as much as he can – and probably more than he should, given the condition he’s in – Kolya holds on as tight as possible. After a moment, he runs a hand back up Rodney’s cheek again, tipping his head in order to kiss him quickly, desperately – hopefully, almost.

“It’s all right,” he whispers once more, knowing full-well that it isn’t. “We’re alive.”

And they are. But the guilt is killing him now.

It isn’t. They’re dead. Both of them. Doesn’t he know that? Rodney grabs the back of Kolya’s head – struck a moment too late by the memory **that** dredges up – and forces their lips together again, hand pulling at Kolya’s hospital-issue shirt to shove his hand under and up to find his chest, his heart, to push his fingers in against where he expects the gaping hole to be. Can’t Kolya feel the way that Rodney’s ripped open there too?

They aren’t alive and okay. And this medical bay with its impersonal colours and calm pronouncement of continuing life is a travesty of what life is. It’s death. He can smell it in the air.

For once, Rodney wants to get out. Of here. Now. It isn’t funny when it’s real.

“Rodney,” Kolya whispers, unable to stop touching him, fighting desperately to reassure him – and well aware that he’s failing. “It’s all right. I _promise_ you it’s all right. And whatever... whatever you can’t stop thinking to the contrary, _trust me_ , this is real. Not that.”

He drags Rodney in closer still, laying a hand over his heart too, as if that contact might somehow offer grounding. “I’m here.”

Rodney is half-sitting on the bed, avoiding drips and whatever else there is around, just trying to touch him. He shakes hard under the hand on his own breast – almost pulls back – not even sure why. But he nods, breath hiccupping.

“It feels like you aren’t,” he admits, stroking the back of his neck over and over like you would to calm an animal. The need to comfort him is as strong as his own need for it, still. “It’s me. I can’t feel that you’re still alive. I’m so sorry. I should be deliriously happy, but I think something’s wrong with me. I think you’re still dead.” The speech is hurried, clumsy and oh so painful. He winces, when he finishes, unable to look him in the eye again.

Kolya sits up fully at this – and yes, yes, that _really_ hurts, but he doesn’t let it hinder him – wrapping his arms more firmly around Rodney, gripping his head with his good arm and not letting go for a long moment. When he does, he pulls back only just enough to make eye-contact, trying to hold it for as long as possible.

“I was never dead,” he points out. “I’m here, I’m alive, and I’m not going anywhere.” He takes Rodney’s hand again, pressing it to his own chest once more, leaning in so close that he can feel both heartbeats. “See?”

“I... I _know_ that... intellectually I know, I... it just... inside feels...” Inside I feel like I’m alone and slowly dying a death over and over. “I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here. The psych profile must have been fudged to get me here because I’m so intelligent because I’m not... not equal to the pressure and...”

On one level, Rodney knows full well what his mind is doing. It’s fighting to lock everything down and in place and seal off the entire experience, rather than deal with it. Which is why being here, talking to him... is pulling his psyche apart. It is hard to fight your mental safeguards. They are usually there for a reason.

“I feel dead. I need to feel... you, me, alive again...” he says, looking at him firmly with those broken eyes. “I just... don’t know how.”

“You are equal to the pressure.” Kolya tells him. “More than equal. What you went through tonight – everything that happened – would prove that in its own right. _Did_ prove that in its own right.”

Wishing he knew a clear-cut way to give Rodney precisely what he needs, Kolya drags him in to kiss again, taking it slowly this time, tongue sliding across his lips and gently pushing deeper, as if he could somehow stroke life back into him from within.

But amidst it all, he’s shaking. Scared, almost. If nothing else, Rodney isn’t the only one who effectively watched him die – because _Kolya_ , of course, saw it too. And having been in a number of situations in his life where he genuinely believed it was about to be over, that image is... unsettling – even if he, at least, knew it wasn’t real. 

Then why am I lost and broken and cold now, Rodney thinks, but doesn’t say. He parts his lips reluctantly, letting him slowly inside, fingers moving up and into his hair. The hand on his chest wants to move but doesn’t dare. Doesn’t dare hurt him. The frustration winds down low and deep, and then suddenly... something flips.

He drags his hand down over Kolya’s side in a way that has to really hurt, but does little or nothing to worsen the damage. And then he’s straddling him, drawing his knife, pressing it into Kolya’s stomach, staring him in the eyes. Because he needs to. He... needs to see Kolya’s eyes and face through this, needs the memory on his own terms. Needs to see what he will do.

What both of them will do.

The hand on his side draws a sharp gasp from Kolya at once – stab-wounds being the easily-aggravated things that they are – but he doesn’t say anything. Indeed, he doesn’t fight any of what Rodney does; not because he can’t (though it would hurt), but because he _knows_ , deep down, that Rodney needs to do this. He’s likely known it ever since he woke up, and has certainly known it for longer than he’d prefer to admit.

Some things he’s never been good with. But this? This he understands, on one level or another, and sometimes on several at once. Always has, always will. So there’s no question in his eyes, no need to voice that seemingly eternal ‘why?’ as he stares back at Rodney, silent now. Silent and waiting.

This... this is... (sick, wrong, cruel, evil, part of Rodney says; twisted, vicious, abusive, unwell. Advantage taking. **Bad**.) This is his blood thrumming in his head and chest again, this is all the feeling there had been in that moment. It had been cut off before, halted ahead of time. And you don’t stop such a significant amount of energy so suddenly without some damage.

This is that moment again. This is the way Rodney **wants** it to go.

He grabs Kolya’s jaw and holds it still as he leans into his face. “I could have killed you,” Rodney says again, but the tone this time is a low, darkly humoured one. “I could kill you now.”

The blade drags down over Kolya’s stomach – not cutting, but pulling at his skin. Rodney leans in closer, so it’s pressed into his own stomach too.

“You could,” Kolya answers, quietly, staring back at him with incredible... acceptance in his expression. “But you didn’t. And you won’t.” This is said in the same quiet tone – not as a question, or a request, or even a command, but simply as a statement.

He doesn’t move, though – _that_ would be foolish – save for the slightest shiver as the blade makes close contact; its raw, beautiful, dangerous power almost palpable against his skin.

“Take the hilt,” Rodney says, moving his hand so Kolya can, ready to wind his fingers around both Kolya’s and the hilt just the moment he does. “Hold it with me.”

The hand moves from his jaw to supporting him in this position, but his face remains in close, close enough to touch just any moment he chooses to. And suddenly everything is on fire and he’s not entirely sure how he’s keeping himself still and not running Kolya through with the knife after all.

He needs to know. Needs to know he won’t. Hasn’t. And that Kolya knows this too. Needs to see the expression in his eyes and know it’s still him. And know just how he feels.

Slowly, carefully, Kolya lifts his left hand to wrap it around the knife-hilt, fingers lacing with Rodney’s at the same time. He doesn’t try to move the blade, however, staying completely still, attention fixed unwaveringly on Rodney’s eyes.

And the trust in his own eyes is there for all to see: an open belief that Rodney isn’t going to hurt him. Isn’t going to kill him. He believes it so intensely that he doesn’t need to make a conscious decision to bring it to the fore, to make it obvious. It already is.

As is something else... and that something can only be classed as utter, utter adoration, genuine and spontaneous and real.

Things buried and dampened earlier – interrupted, as they were, by Elizabeth – are almost entirely back. It’s evident in Rodney’s face that whatever he’s doing is forcing out the fog, bringing back... whatever the hell it was that he’d been feeling before is back large and loud and fierce, evident in his posture, in his shoulders, in the way his breath moves in and out of his lungs.

He’d known. That was the problem. Part of him had _known_ and the two responses got confused. He hadn’t trusted himself. Had had to trust in science to show him what he already knew. His sight had been so... attractively simple to believe.

He drags the knife up to the space just below their ribcages, even as he presses his lips to Kolya’s, drags his tongue over. Hard. “Tell me what you want,” Rodney says. “Tell me what you **need**. You are the one hurt.”

“I _need_ to know you’re all right,” Kolya answers. “Not just to hear it, but to... know it.” Because this is... something beyond words. It’s too much for words to cope with. And no matter how he tries to wrap them around it, they never fit. Never work.

He’s completely unafraid on a physical level, though – not simply because he trusts Rodney, but also because he’s experienced so much in recent ...hours? ...days? ...that the concept of physical fear has more or less been numbed out of him for the time being. It’s an odd feeling – one he hasn’t genuinely felt in a long time – almost like flying. Gliding, perhaps. So much slips beneath, below, skimmed over and avoided. Wonderful and dangerous.

“I’m not,” says Rodney, honestly. Non-nervously. Just... the truth. “But I think I can be.”

He eases his fingers from Kolya’s on the knife, rests instead on that hand, letting the other stroke the warm air just above his partner’s injured side. A very large part of him is screaming for blood, for vengeance. Vengeance he can’t take, because the woman he thought he needed it against is dead. Vengeance he can’t take because the person he’s angry with for taking it from him is bloodied and sore and _him_. His hackles are up, and he needs to get them down. Needs to know there _is_ a safe way down. He’s never needed to find one before.

Now is not the time to hurt him any more, Rodney knows. And giving up the knife when he’s so angry despite himself... is hard. Not doing what that side of him is begging him to do is impossibly, impossibly hard, and pulling him in directions he didn’t even know he was capable of going. Back down. Lock it up. Not give in.

If only he knew what he should do.

“I think I can be... when I know you’re still alive and... unbroken too.”

Once Rodney has let go of the knife and lifted his hand away, Kolya slowly turns it and carefully lays the blade on the bed at his side – and then, immediately, he raises his now-empty hand to stroke Rodney’s cheek again, brushing back into his hair.

“I am,” he insists, quietly. “I know it. Just... look into my eyes. I’m _here_.”

He doesn’t know how else to say it. How else to prove it. All he knows is that he needs to more than he’s needed to prove anything for a very long time indeed.

Rodney looks. Oh, does he look. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Not yet. No. Not yet. He doesn’t know where the knowledge comes from, but he can feel it deep inside somewhere. Now is not the time.

“Okay.”

He moves the knife again, shifts back so he’s over by Kolya’s good side, not wanting to stay where he was.

Kolya merely sits and stares back at him, his expression so very... open, now – open in a way that only Rodney ever gets to see, a way that would disappear if someone else was to walk into the room. He stays like that, quiet and unblinking, until Rodney finally speaks – but the word doesn’t fill him with confidence.

There isn’t a lot of room on that single hospital bed, but Kolya manages to shift to the side so he can lie back, gently tugging Rodney into position beside him. There’s so little he can do at the moment, injured as he is, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to think of something. Anything. Anything that might make a difference.

Needing to be doing _something_ that might help, he leans to kiss Rodney again, the emotion in his movements so obvious that he wonders if the other man will be able to taste it, never mind see it. Some things exist on a... different level, after all.

Hospital beds are most certainly not made for two. And certainly not two tall men. Rodney’s pressed as far back as he can without falling off, to give Kolya as much room as he can. He doesn’t want to hurt him. (Does. On one level. Wants to hurt him a lot.) Wants to make sure he’s fine. Healing. Alive.

He needs to stop thinking about it. Because thinking about it lets his mind replay the same few moments over and over in horrendous technicolour. He’s cursed with a good memory, and an equally good negative imagination. The two combined are not helping right now.

Kolya’s the one who almost bled to death, and here he is having to comfort Rodney, who didn’t kill anyone and who wasn’t tortured (this time). Because Rodney is so weak that...

He shudders, hard, putting a hand on the side of Kolya’s face and kissing him back through the sudden, silent tears. He can feel it all right. And it hurts that Kolya’s doing this, right now, when **he** should be. That he needs comfort, rather than gives it... the hand goes to the back of his head again, keeping him in place.

“I’m so sorry I’m losing it. I love you, Acastus. But if you pull a stunt like that again, I think you’ll kill me. I don’t cope well with... well. Without you, it seems. I’m... waiting for the part of me that died with you to come back.”

And oh, but Kolya needs this as well. Oh yes. He needs it maddeningly – needs Rodney here and close and _inside_ , because he can feel him there, deep down, clearest of all, wrapped around the fullest realisation of _them_. As such, he doesn’t rush to end it, doesn’t rush back to the words, because the words remain difficult and confusing whilst _this_ will always make a very real kind of sense – and when he finally does pull back, he once again stays close.

“You’re not losing it,” Kolya answers, oh-so-quietly. “You’re reacting. And that’s normal. It hurts, but it’s normal.”

He pauses for a moment, staring up at Rodney with that deeply open look again. “I don’t cope well without you, either,” he points out, entirely truthfully, suddenly feeling as if one of the many walls inside has just gone down, and some things are clearer now. “The recent weeks without you have been agony, and coming here... seeing you again... was like waking up. It made me realise just how much I _do_ need you. How much I love you. And then, when _she_... when that Moiran managed to attack me, wrong-foot me... hurt me... the last thing she told me, before I passed out, was that she was going to kill you. And when I woke up again, realised what she’d _done_ \- and what she must have been planning to do – I was ready to give anything, _anything_ , to prevent it. I didn’t think about it, not because I didn’t want to, but because there was nothing to think. No decision to make. I had already made it. I made it back on that damned planet and it stands to this day... that no matter what, I will always bring you back alive.”

This does not _feel_ like not-losing-it. This feels like the world breaking apart and everything Rodney knows shattering when it lands. Like: just exactly what kind of man he is. Just exactly what drives him, under the logic and the reason and the neuroses... Things now even Elizabeth has seen.

He wonders if she thinks any less of him, or if he’s now just indistinguishable from the soldiers he’s been around so long. Such a sell-out that he’s _become_ one.

It’s the knowledge that he could kill, personally. That vengeance means more than reason. And that his affinity for the... darker, more painful side of things goes deeper than the superficial living room screen. That... **he** goes so deep down inside that the loss of him could break his heart, mind and soul.

It’s terrifying. Utterly, utterly terrifying. And now that Rodney’s finally making himself face what’s happened, he finds it makes him giddily sick.

Very blue, very expressive eyes blink rapidly, then still, looking... so thoroughly touched, humbled and scared that it’s almost tangible. He looks like his heart is breaking. Which is probably because it is. He grabs Kolya in close for a hug that’s more like a squeeze, face in his hair, chest shaking with emotion. The warmth in his arms is more proof he’s alive, and with each breath in he can feel it more and more, desperately trying to pull back the sense of him inside. Where it belongs. Because the hole without him in there is impossible to bear.

“Acastus... I would do the same thing as you. I _did_. The only difference is I grabbed the wrong man. Just... just don’t leave my sight for a long, long time. I need you to stay with me until I know we’re both safe. Promise me. I need you too much to let go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kolya insists, breath almost catching in his chest at the look in Rodney’s eyes, and the emotions it provokes in him in return. “I’m here with you, and we’re safe. And we’re going to stay that way.”

The words are more real now, after what he said before. Perhaps he just... needed to say it. Perhaps he even needed to hear it.

And after a moment, he pulls Rodney in to kiss again, tongue tracing deep, holding onto him throughout. The warmth and the closeness and above all the _contact_ are everything right now – everything he wants and needs.

Rodney finds Kolya’s right hand and holds it in his left, carefully interlocking their fingers without pushing any movement that might hurt. His right he raises to Kolya’s temple, tracing down where tears would fall, down to lightly hold his chin as he opens his mouth with a deep, bone-deep shudder.

It’s starting to hurt in the good way, too, in his chest. Still hurting. But...

He needs more hands. He needs to press Kolya in close. But he can’t let go of his face. Can’t let go at all. In case next time he can’t get hold again.

Whilst rarely in a hurry to end the act of kissing Rodney McKay, Kolya is even more eager not to stop right now – so much so that when he finally does pull back, he has to take a deep breath to rectify the lack of oxygen. But with that done, he leans in again, almost shaking under the realisation of how much he needs this.

And he does. Mere months ago, the thought of one person’s presence being so... healing... to him? He wouldn’t even have entertained the notion. But now? Now he knows differently. Better.

When they break apart a second time, Kolya keeps his hand on the back of Rodney’s head, to hold him in close. He feels there ought to be more words, and so whispers those that feel most important – and most clear.

“I love you.”

Also entirely true. So much so it can almost scare him at times.

The urge to say ‘I know’ is strong, so strong that Rodney laughs. Nervously. And then he bites his lip and swallows. Hard. Forces the eye-contact again that hurts so badly.

“I... love you too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I was...”

Terrified. From the moment you told me. If not before.

“I did. I just... couldn’t say.”

And then oh that’s a world of movement inside. Metaphor or not, it really does feel like floodgates opening the dam he didn’t know was there. And then... then he can feel him. And it’s like fire choking him up inside so hard he has to cry to let it out. “Oh god I love you. I love you so much it **hurts**.”

“I know,” Kolya answers – being of course unaware of why Rodney opted _not_ to quote that particular line. “Of course I know. I never needed to ask. I just... waited until you were ready to tell me.”

Which, for an interrogator, is likely the breakthrough of a lifetime.

But he has known, probably a lot longer than you might think – known what must be driving all those little occasions when Rodney clearly had something important on the tip of his tongue. It’s one of the reasons why he never pushed it – because he wanted Rodney to be free to wait for the right moment. It had to be the right moment. Otherwise it wouldn’t be. Right.

He strokes the back of Rodney’s head, over and over, trying to soothe him. “I know,” he whispers, again. “Oh, I know.” And he feels it too, oh yes... It’s the most beautiful pain in all the world.

Rodney cries tears of long pent-up frustration and relief, hand on his shoulder, his head, his face, his neck. He presses their faces together, knowing no matter how much, how long, how hard and how often he touches him, it’s never quite going to be enough. He’s always going to want and need more.

And he’s done; signed, sealed, delivered. This is merely the shipping confirmation now, of a deal done long ago. And he’s so very, very sold. And he knows it. Accepts it.

“I’d kill anyone who tried to take you from me.”

Because that’s the other thing he knows, now. But he needs to say that too.

“And it freaks me out.”

Kolya smiles at this, really not surprised at all. But then, even before recent events, he likely wouldn’t have been. “I know that, too,” he says. “And I... know it can feel a little alarming. All I can promise you is that it... gets easier to live with. Maybe that’s not what you most want to hear. But it’s... true.”

It is. He feels it too. He has done for quite some time. And whilst it was... odd, at first, to feel that way again, it was a familiar experience. One he... wanted back.

Possibly that is not something he should admit. For a number of reasons.

It is vitally important Rodney not be reminded at any point that Kolya might have had anything resembling feelings for anyone else alive. Especially at a time like this. Because Rodney might actually think it a good idea to go and remove all temptation without so much as a word.

Fortunately, he is not thinking in those terms right now. Or there might be trouble.

“I’d rather not have to. But. Well. Now... you know. And so do I. I suppose.” Rodney squeezes him a little harder.

If this topic of conversation _did_ come up, Kolya would be quick to point out that ‘had’ is the operative word. Because there’s no one else now, oh no. Not even close. _No one_. Things past... are just that. _Past_. And moreover, that’s how he wants them.

Kolya brushes a hand over Rodney’s forehead, stroking his hair back. “Now I know. And you know I’d do the same, don’t you?”

He knows Rodney knows, of course. But it feels like something that should be said, nevertheless.

Rodney nods. He does. “You shot one of your own men for walking in on us, once. I don’t think I ever thought otherwise.”

The closeness is helping. It’s wakening his sense of them, yes, but it’s also wakening the worries he’s been ignoring. He attempts to keep ignoring them. Really.

“I love you,” Rodney says, again, not knowing what the hell else to do or say.

“I only wounded him, though,” Kolya points out, which is entirely true – and helpfully covers up the part where even he is still a little surprised by how calmly he did that. Shooting enemies is one thing. Shooting one’s own subordinates? Is something else. And it makes him think.

He is, however, in unspoken agreement about how helpful the closeness is. _Very_ helpful. Although now he’s started thinking about the past, it’s made him start thinking about the present – only another aspect thereof.

“Have my people been told about what happened?” he asks.

Rodney winces. “I... don’t know. I... haven’t moved much,” he admits. “Elizabeth came in briefly to see how you were, and to find out when you’d be fit to talk to. She probably wants to tell you herself. Do you want me to find out?”

Although Kolya _does_ want to know, what he also wants is for Rodney to stay right where he is for as long as possible. And – crucially – this latter wish wins out.

“No, it’s all right,” he answers. “I’m sure someone will turn up with explanations sooner or later.” They usually do. Though often, they also _want_ explanations, which is less helpful. “Besides. I want you here.”

Rodney smiles, if a little weakly. He feels drained. “Someone will. And I’ll stay as long as you want me. Or as long as Carson thinks you need to be here. Whichever comes soonest.”

“I would imagine Doctor Beckett will want me here for some time. Although after enduring my company for a short while, he may change his mind.”

Most people do. Either that, or he changes it for them.

“Just... stay with me. If anyone wants us, they know where we are.”

Discovering how starkly your priorities can shift is an amazing thing.

“I will,” Rodney says. “And he’s more likely to throw me out before he tries to throw you out, anyway. Well. He can try. He hasn’t got as much hand-to-hand experience as me.”

He nuzzles into Kolya’s throat. “Nothing short of a nuclear blast or a siege by the Wraith will pull me away from you now. And only then because otherwise I might lose you all over again.”

Kolya tries to ignore the sudden mental image of Rodney and Beckett duelling. It really isn’t appropriate now.

Instead, he tightens his arm around Rodney, fingers stroking his shoulder, trying to lose himself in the contact because it’s familiar and welcome and _grounding_ \- and all of this is leading him into territory he really doesn’t have any experience of dealing with. But then, very few people do.

There are words, somewhere. On the tip of some other Rodney’s tongue. That Rodney knows what to say right now, knows he did right. Both of them are reassured. Possibly that Rodney is asleep. There are words, and they cover this. They let Kolya know precisely what it is they both need.

This Rodney is not that Rodney. This Rodney, instead, pulls their mouths together to kiss slow, slow, planet-round-the-sun, tree-growing-tall slow. It’s frustrating, but it’s the closest he can get.

The words, instead, he says inside his head. Maybe he can hear anyway.

Maybe Kolya can hear. Maybe he just knows. Or maybe, having reached the state of closeness that they have, it makes sense for thoughts to follow similar patterns. He lets the kiss last for as long as Rodney wants it to – in no hurry to be rushing away from it – but when they do finally break apart, he gives Rodney one of his most intent looks.

“Tell me what you need,” Kolya whispers, running a finger down the side of his lover’s face. “Tell me. Anything.”

Thankfully, the kind of people who could learn rather too much from this exchange are not here to see it. Which is fortunate.

It is stupid and he does not need to say it. Does not want to say it. Because it’s just weird and not necessary and... weird and... not... the kind of thing you say to a person like Commander Acastus Kolya. Even when you’re under a lot of stress. Because. It’s. Because he’s **male** and so is Rodney and Kolya will probably think there’s something wrong with him or something, and plus it’s genetically a bad idea and... did he mention it was a really bad idea and Kolya will think he’s weird and... weak or something or...

It is very, very clear that Rodney is clawing himself in two over this. And it’s a mark of how much he needs to say it that he’s not just shrugging the request off, laughing, denying there’s anything, deflecting the question. But it’s also a mark of how worried he is that it’s something he wants he hasn’t asked for, still.

He. Shouldn’t say it. He doesn’t need to. Doesn’t need it.

Does. Or he wouldn’t have been fretting over it silently so long.

“Marry me,” Rodney says, although he hardly gets the words out aloud. “I mean... well I don’t know what you do where you come from or even if you wanted to or... or if you’d rather not but you asked and I’ve been thinking and I don’t want to die not having asked you when I could have and... okay... I’m.... I’m going to shut up now and...”

It is a simple fact of universal balance – if such a thing could ever be perceived as simple – that Kolya has, to this point, been the one to make the most surprising statements in this relationship. It was he, after all, who initiated that first kiss back on the Planet – and he who first opted to admit to being in love. So it’s a rather pleasing irony that this time, Rodney is the one to make the unexpected move.

And Acastus would likely be enjoying that fact, were he not rather more preoccupied with its content. He looks... stunned. Utterly, totally stunned – though not, it must be noted, in a bad way. Oh no. But let’s be honest, from all the possible things he might have predicted Rodney could say, _that_ certainly wasn’t among them.

It has to be highlighted, though – for Rodney to be the one asking and Kolya to be the one answering has a certain... special quality to it.

He smiles, resting his entire hand on the side of Rodney’s cheek now, and then answers – tone so genuine that even the extraordinarily unaware would be hard-pressed to miss it.

“Yes.”

Rodney honestly didn’t know what Kolya was going to say. His self-confidence is – as anyone with any sense whatsoever can tell you – nowhere near as high as he likes to pretend it is. And he wasn’t sure he’d read things properly... the relationship, yes; Kolya’s opinions of formalised partnerships, less so.

So he has to wait a second while he remembers what meaning each word has. And then he remembers what he thinks the word means, and sees it in his face and hears it in his voice and cries again. He wishes he could stop doing that, but apparently today just isn’t the day for not crying. Most people would forgive him, however.

He mirrors Kolya’s gesture, the same hand reaching out for Kolya’s face, and he turns to kiss at the base of his thumb before looking somewhat shyly at him from under his lashes. “You... you did just say what I think you said, didn’t you? I mean, you’re not just saying that from bloodloss or something, are you? This isn’t duress? Maybe I should ask you again when you’ve recovered and can think straight – no pun intended – and don’t feel like... like... You really want to?”

And... there’s the crux of it. He still can’t quite accept this. Can’t quite admit to himself, can’t let himself believe he’s wanted. Not really. Not always-really-properly. Most of the time, yes... but the moments in between when he can’t believe anyone would and... his hand tightens on Kolya’s face, mixed terror, uncertainty and wonder and... yes. Lots of things.

“I did. And I do.” There’s no drop in the honesty in Kolya’s voice, no flicker of anything but complete sincerity – except, of course, for more than a little soul-deep amazement. Because this... this he did not expect, and he’s having to think a lot. But not to process it. Oh no. That was... unbelievably easy.

“Of course I want to,” he goes on, after a moment, stroking Rodney’s cheek despite the tears. “What I feel for you is... stronger than any feeling I have ever known – any feeling I thought I _could_ know.”

It’s scary, though – to be _wanted_ that much – and despite long being aware of how strongly Rodney feels for him, to hear the other man actually suggest something like this is... pretty incredible. It certainly might explain the long-awaited reappearance of his Just Won The Non-Existent Genii Lottery expression.

“They must really have given you the good drugs, then,” Rodney says with a nervous laugh. “Why don’t I ever get those when I get injured?”

And then he tries to push a knee in between Kolya’s legs, to insinuate himself even closer, to physically entwine like he already emotionally feels they are. His other hand is on Kolya’s heart, and he smiles as he feels it. Still there. Still beating. But nowhere near as fast as his own.

“I... thought you’d think I was being... I thought you’d think I was being... I don’t know.” There’s a slight edge of hysteria there. Slight. It shakes through his body, even as he snuggles in closer. “I still can’t quite believe I asked. Not... not that I mean I didn’t want to because I did... do... I... I just never ever thought you’d... not just... laugh or...” he trails off in wonder.

“Okay.” Swallow. “Shutting up now. Because. Because we’re getting married and I’m babbling and it’s important that I stop before you change your mind.”

“Trust me, this isn’t the drugs talking.” It would take a great deal more of them to really affect Kolya’s head. And you don’t even want to know how he knows _that_.

Kolya moves his hand to stroke Rodney’s back, to encourage him to lie closer and to soothe whatever worry and nervousness still plague the other man’s mind. “I can’t quite believe you asked, either,” he says, with a smile that’s as honest as his tone. “But that does not mean I am opposed to the idea. Oh no.”

In truth, he’d never really thought about it – for a whole swathe of reasons, some of them complex, some simple, some just plain painful. But now he _does_ think about it? It makes rather unexpected sense. 

“Then I think I might have a heart attack any second, so if I start shaking or stop breathing or something, I want to apologise because it is entirely not-intentional.” Tight, tight hold, and Rodney’s hands are now sweating.

And there’s the moments after which he hadn’t planned either. Mainly because the first one wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

So he leans in to kiss Kolya again, long and slow, with all the emotional investment there’s room for in a hospital bed in an alien galaxy. Which happens to be a surprisingly large amount. It’s a possessive kiss, of course, but a giving one, too; trying to gauge just what the other man wants and needs. Which, worryingly, is surprisingly so easy to do some days.

Slow, slow kissing simply is one of the best things in the world. Especially when you’re very opposed to moving and extraordinarily fond of the other person involved. **Engaged** to the other person involved. And oh, but isn’t that such a... remarkably strange concept? It’s going to take Kolya a while to get his mind around it, no matter how _right_ it feels. Not, of course, that any of this presents a problem. Oh no.

But he’s a little lost for words – which is entirely unconnected to the part where talking is currently impossible. Hence why that fact... helps, nonetheless.

Eventually, all kissing has to stop. No matter how long one wants, no matter how damn nice it feels, or how much your stomach is lurching and it feels like the only way to keep from screaming incoherently is to be locked lips and soul... physical necessities arise.

Rodney’s breath is a painful hiss when they break, fighting the sudden tightness in his chest he’s trying to convince himself isn’t an imminent cardio-vascular failure. His thumb brushes Kolya’s cheekbone, under his eye, where he’s staring. “I realise this is a really bad time, sorry. And I’m not wearing a sidearm. And you need to rest.” Kiss. “I promise I’ll make it up to you some other time. Really.”

Although if Kolya insists, Rodney has... ways. “Tell me what you want. Anything. And you have it.”

Kolya runs his hand over Rodney’s heart again, feeling how much it is racing and slowly stroking his chest in response, trying to be calming. It’s harder than usual, though, because he is experiencing so many of the same emotions as well – and they really are quite something.

“This isn’t a bad time,” the commander insists, entirely honest. “It’s a very, very good time.” Which is a little... coherently incoherent, all things considered. Though it is true – because being _proposed to_ by the person you were afraid of having hurt irrevocably is generally a good sign.

“I want _you_ ,” he goes on to answer. “I want you here, with me, where I can feel your heartbeat and listen to you breathe. Anything else... can wait.”

Rodney nods, feeling marginally guilty, but somewhat relieved. Because whilst they both know he has rather a vulgar interest in hospital gowns, and this is bringing back so many memories of when their roles were reversed... and matters becoming rapidly worse with the **new** connotations and associations... the shock and the exhaustion and the worry and the very real possibility of intrusion are doing a damn good job of dissuasion.

But heart and breath he can do. **Wants** to, because he wants the same thing. He nods, then settles in again. “You have me,” Rodney replies, eyes almost demure, “you already did.”

He strokes gently at the back of Kolya’s head, fingers easing over his scalp. “I almost don’t want to sleep in case I wake up and this was all a dream. I don’t think I could cope if it was. I mean... all of today. Going through that... for nothing, even in a dream...” He shakes his head. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Except, maybe, in my room with you now instead. But here will have to do as second best.”

“This isn’t a dream,” Kolya replies, though he understands why Rodney is especially worried by the concept. “It’s real. It’s real, and it will be here when you wake up. As will I.”

Indeed, he’d quite happily let Rodney fall asleep right where he is, and glare at anyone who happened to saunter in and complain. There’s a belief in the effectiveness of medical treatment, and then there’s the knowledge that proximity to Rodney will constantly win out. Plus, the man clearly hasn’t slept properly in a shockingly long time, and Kolya really would prefer to know that this was being rectified.

“You’d say that even if you were a dream,” Rodney chides gently. “So I wouldn’t know.” There’s a pause. A long pause. But one it’s clear he’s thinking in. “It’s just sometimes, you have to take a chance and accept it isn’t, or else you spend your whole life wondering when you’ll wake up, and never knowing if you have.”

Which is fairly profound for Rodney. He almost looks startled himself. “So if you are a dream, don’t ever wake me up.” Because... I’m betting a rather large amount on this being real.

Very profound indeed. Kolya smiles amazingly fondly. “I won’t,” he promises, wrapping his arms around Rodney and still agreeing with the reasoning wholeheartedly.

He’s got the most precious aspect of existence right beneath his fingertips. And, convinced of reality or not, that is worth a lifelong dream.

***

Elizabeth stands on the balcony, staring at the sea. She often likes to do this, but some days she needs the sound of the waves more than others. Seeing the ocean calm is... reassuring.

All of the Moirans are now gone, and all of her people now free. Status reports no longer come in every few minutes, and she can breathe for a moment or two, whilst waiting for Colonel Sheppard to come.

John Sheppard is usually a busy man – but far more so after people have attempted to invade his city and kill his people. Sadly, this now seems to be happening every other Tuesday... or maybe it just feels like that.

Like certain other people in Atlantis – probably a fair few, in all honesty – he hasn’t slept in far too long, but is now at the point where this no longer matters. Nevertheless, he still looks alert and awake as he steps out onto the balcony to join Elizabeth.

“You asked to see me?”

Elizabeth turns slightly – not fully – to see him. “Yes, I did,” she replies, voice quiet. “I hear everything is now back to normal.” As normal as it gets.

Sheppard nods. “Seems that way. I’ve still got teams sweeping the city, but it looks like all our people are accounted for, and all _theirs_ are outta the way. Several bodies turned up – all theirs, I might add.” Which means certain individuals had clearly been busy for quite a while before events involving identity crises and the like.

“On a more welcome note, we didn’t lose anybody, and Beckett’s seen to the few who were injured.”

...Amazing how you can give a report without actually saying anything.

“Good. That’s wonderful news. Once again, I have to thank you for your... remarkable efforts.” She’s smiling. But it’s clear something is troubling her. Something rather... troublesome.

“Everyone is back on active status, now?”

Except for Rodney and Kolya, is the unspoken question.

Troublesome indeed. Sheppard knows it, and he knows full-well what it is – and it’s troubling him too. Of _course_. He nods in acknowledgement of the thanks, expression set.

“Everyone except Doctor McKay, who has been in the infirmary since... this ended.”

Since _he_ nearly died in our control room. Which would just have been... twisted, twisted irony.

“How is he?” It could mean just Rodney. It could mean both of them. Elizabeth’s expression is... complicated.

What Kolya did – was going to do, possibly did, what they thought ‘he’ had done...

...is... challenging. One of those ethical dilemmas she’s here to steer through.

“From what Beckett tells me,” – translation: I haven’t _been_ to the infirmary yet – “Rodney’s fine,” Sheppard answers. “A few minor injuries, but nothing serious – aside from a somewhat noteworthy lack of sleep.”

Sheppard would like it so much if the question _was_ just about Rodney. Alas, he knows that it isn’t. There’s more than a slight flicker in his eyes as he speaks again, though his voice remains level.

“Commander Kolya is out of danger, and apparently conscious again. According to Beckett, he’ll make a full recovery – provided he doesn’t go running around anywhere soon.”

Elizabeth nods. “We will have to inform his people. Although I’d like to talk to him, first, to see how he wants to broach the issue.”

“I understand the reasoning in leaving him alone with the prisoner,” she continues. “And I think I recall hearing it was also done with his full consent.”

 _And mine_ , Sheppard thinks, but doesn’t say it yet. As the old adage goes, _the enemy of my enemy is my friend_. Just not for any longer than necessary.

“It was. At the time, there was little indication that doing so was a bad idea. The prisoner was supposedly under control, and the commander was all-too-happy to stay with her. Indeed, if I recall, it was his idea.”

Elizabeth nods again. “I just need my facts clear before I contact Chief Cowan. Whilst I might be understanding in the matter, past experience has shown that he is not quite so forgiving. Another reason I need to talk to Commander Kolya.”

A pause. “How would you... describe his actions, today?”

Too much past experience. Considering how long the treaty negotiations went on for, you could almost believe Cowan didn’t _want_ an alliance.

And Kolya’s actions? Sheppard knows precisely how he’d describe them, and every single word makes the bitterness rise. From what he can tell, the damn Genii spent most of the night working with Rodney to manage the defence of Atlantis. He took down a number of hostiles, and ultimately managed to gain a key advantage which made final victory possible. In the process, he kept Rodney alive, kept the city operational, and did nothing that could really be construed as underhand. And in the end, he very nearly _died_ trying to fight people who were only his enemies by proxy.

In short, everything the man did makes Sheppard’s blood boil.

“He did what any good soldier would do,” the colonel answers, tone still so very level. “And I can’t fault him for any of it.”

...well, perhaps for one or two questionable wounds found on a couple of the bodies. Though in all honesty, any faulting there would only be on an official line.

No complaints. It’s as Elizabeth half-hoped, half-feared. And really, any personal qualms she’s feeling over the... implied content of some of Kolya’s actions are intensely hypocritical, considering the sanctions she’s given, and the unofficial sanction she, Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay all gave by none of them raising a word of protest during the event.

If she’s honest with herself, it’s this sanction that bothers her, more than the act. And she can’t really fault him for a thing, considering the results, and the hardships he’s been through. Even if she decided she wanted to.

“I’m very pleased with the co-operation both sides showed,” she says carefully, voice deliberately diplomatic. “It bodes well for the continuing alliance between our people and theirs. If this does not cause a rupture.”

“It does,” Sheppard agrees. And it does. The question of whether he wants it to is the more complex issue, but the fact remains that recent events are, technically, a good sign.

...he really ought to feel more convinced about that.

“And I expect Cowan will feel the same way – in fact, I figure he’ll see it as us owing him one.”

“That was what I was hoping – and dreading.” Elizabeth pauses, looks back out at the sea. “But I think now we can be assured that at least Commander Kolya believes in protecting this city – and its inhabitants – as much as we do. Which will be useful, should Cowan ever change his mind.”

She looks at John. “At least as long as the current... arrangement lasts.” And oh, but this is so very awkward. And one of the reasons the military have always liked to keep relationships strictly in distinct barracks, far from work. And she’s seeing exactly why.

“I’d like your view on the situation.”

Sheppard is fairly sure Elizabeth _wouldn’t_ like his view on the situation, but he opts to offer the more acceptable version.

“We go with what we’ve got, for as long as it lasts,” he says. “If nothing else, I don’t see us having any other choice.” ...at least, that you would like. “And besides, so far, this... has worked out for us. We got Rodney back alive, and we got the Moirans out of the city.”

And that might not have happened, if...

“And if it comes to a choice between two masters, or there’s trouble in paradise...” It’s very cold, and it’s very cynical, but it’s the kind of thing a leader needs to think about. Plan for. Count on.

Be wary, Elizabeth is saying. Because she knows if anyone will, John Sheppard will. For all she wants the alliance to work, and for all she needs the liaison to run smoothly with no friction... friction Sheppard is probably most likely to present... she also wants her people and her city safe.

“...best to rear no lion in the state,” she muses, mostly under her breath and to herself. “But...” Elizabeth trails.

“I will ask Carson if he’s fit enough to receive guests,” she picks up. “And you... should get the rest you need too, soon.”

Oh, John Sheppard knows _precisely_ what she means. Knows, but isn’t saying – for obvious reasons. The sad thing is, he’s less worried about Kolya than Rodney. Kolya, for all he dislikes the man, he understands. He knows precisely where his loyalties lie – or thinks he does – but Rodney? Rodney is the tricky part. Sheppard is suddenly concerned about where _his_ loyalties lie – and those are thoughts he does not want to be having. Not when they concern a man he considers his friend.

This is all the damn Genii’s fault.

He nods at what Elizabeth is implying, knowing it will offer little reassurance but is better than nothing. “So the doc keeps telling me,” he answers. “And I will.” But he doesn’t stoop to asking Elizabeth to be careful when she goes to see Kolya – though the thought is there, nonetheless.

“Is there... anything else?” Elizabeth asks, giving Sheppard this room to speak freely, should he want it. Although she knows if he really wanted it, he would have taken it by now. Still. The formal (unspoken) courtesy is one she feels is his due.

Is there anything else? What an awkward question. Of course there’s something else – and Sheppard wishes he could voice it; wishes he could look Elizabeth in the eyes and say ‘yes, one of my best friends is in love with the man who had him tortured and tried to kill you, we’re allied with people I do _not_ trust one bit, and I want to know _now_ what they’re gonna demand in return for Kolya’s actions this evening.’

But he can’t say that, no matter how much he might want to, or how much he might feel he has the right to. So he doesn’t. Instead, resolute – soldierly – he shakes his head. “No. Nothing else.”

Elizabeth knows, of course. So her smile is thin-lipped when she gives it. But she does smile. “All right. Then get yourself some rest, Colonel. You’ve earned it.”

And then she nods, stands more smartly, waits for him to leave.

Nodding in reply, Sheppard turns to depart, walking off the balcony and away – well-aware that he’s not going to be getting anything remotely resembling ‘rest’ for a while yet. His mind is too full of conflict – and until he resolves it, there can be no quiet.

But he’s trying. He is.

Honest.

***

Not long after her conversation with Colonel Sheppard, and a subsequent one with Doctor Beckett, Elizabeth finds herself standing before drawn curtains. Both Rodney and Kolya are on the other side, by all accounts, and have been for a good number of hours.

She almost isn’t sure she even wants to see. She clears her throat quietly, but firmly, paces audibly up to the edge. “Commander. Rodney. May I come in?”

Kolya is well-aware that he ought to be asleep. Doctors are always telling him to sleep when he’s injured. Sleep, no duelling, and try not to get covered in other people’s blood so often – three things he’s not exactly known for. It’s no wonder several of his own physicians are so damn scared of him, really.

And right now, he isn’t asleep – nor has he been. Amazingly, though, Rodney is – still lying curled up close, half-draped over Kolya’s chest. Which is precisely where Acastus wants him, now more than ever. He’s glad to see the other man sleeping, though, because he clearly needed it – and watching him is oddly soothing, in a way. He’s been lying here, listening to Rodney breathe (and, it must be said, occasionally snore), lost in his thoughts.

It’s been quite a long time. But then, he has quite a lot of thoughts.

When Kolya hears footsteps beyond the curtain, however, he instantly snaps back to the here and now – and on hearing Weir’s voice, he really isn’t surprised. He’s been expecting her to turn up at some point.

“You can,” he answers, already wondering precisely what – out of the many possibilities – the Atlantean leader has come to say.

Elizabeth opens the curtain only enough to let herself in and then closes it behind her. She does, actually, respect their privacy. As she would anyone’s. And if this situation is somewhat more... delicate than others... well.

She takes in the scene immediately, frowning a little. “Is this a bad time?” she asks in a low voice designed to not disturb the sleeping scientist. “I had hoped to speak with you, if you were feeling well enough.”

“This is a good time,” Kolya answers, calmly – well-aware of what Weir is likely thinking, but not letting it bother him. Yet. Because he knows this... could be very awkward, for a whole swathe of reasons, some of them connected to the tried-to-kill-you part, and some... even more difficult.

“I take it the city has been returned to normal operations?” he asks – partly because he wants to know, and partly because some people just never halt the questions. Especially when they’re him.

She nods, one hand going to her elbow before she’s even aware of it. “Yes. Thank you. All of the Moirans have been evacuated, and all my people released. We can’t see any lasting damage done. Of course, we’ll run further checks before we sign off on that.”

Then she takes a breath. “I had hoped to speak to you... alone,” directed at Rodney, without looking at him, “if at all possible.”

Kolya actually half-smiles at this, though it’s still a very careful expression indeed. “I wouldn’t worry about Rodney,” he says. “He’s fast asleep – and it would do him a lot of good to stay that way a little longer.”

And this is said in a tone of voice that Weir certainly won’t have heard the commander use before – a flicker of the man Rodney knows, rather than the man everyone else sees.

She pauses a moment in thought. Pauses are helpful, and one used to working with people realises they feel much longer to the person pausing than to those around, and worries less about them. They give space to think.

“It’s true. He does need more rest than he gets – especially after a day like today. Which leads to what I want to talk to you about.” Pause. “I would like to thank you – both as leader of this expedition, and personally – for your efforts in restoring Atlantis to us today. And apologise for the... unfortunate and dangerous welcome we’ve given you. I am very sorry for the injuries you have received.” Another pause, to see if he wants to say anything.

“What happened to me was not your fault, Doctor Weir,” Kolya says – which, on several levels, he really does believe. _Saying_ it, however, is something he’s chosen to do not out of simple graciousness, but because he knows full-well that behaving thus will be an unspoken sign that he considers the Atlanteans to owe him one.

It does make him think, though – because when all this started he launched into it without hesitation, without expecting anything in return. And even though he had little choice, he could have been less forthcoming, more demanding. But he wasn’t. He never even considered it.

...so maybe, maybe, some of that graciousness is more genuine than he realises.

She bows her head slightly in acknowledgement. “No, but the situation should not have presented itself, and you should not have had to deal with the fallout. But, as you are probably aware... this city is an attractive source of resources and information, and difficult to defend. So this kind of incident is not uncommon.”

And she is more than perfectly aware of precisely what it is she’s saying right now.

“I had noticed that, Doctor,” Kolya answers, the wryness creeping into his tone impossible to avoid. “But as a soldier, it was not a situation I felt ill-equipped to deal with.” Especially when you consider that said situation also threatened Rodney – and Kolya simply would **not** allow that.

“I will need to report back to your people about what happened here, of course,” Weir goes on. “And when you are fit, I would like you to report also, so that the Genii do not suspect us of... foul play.”

Pause. “And I will be telling Chief Cowan how admirably you have been upholding – no, more than honouring – the treaty between our people, and that this show of good faith has not gone unnoticed. And of course, we will pass on the technological information about the Moiran people.”

Ah yes. The inevitable reports. Kolya has been aware for a long time that this particular assignment was going to mean yet more paperwork – and trying to sum all of _this_ up? Will be an... attractive challenge. “I would prefer to report back as soon as possible,” he says. “If nothing else, I want my people forewarned about the Moirans – in case they attempt an attack on my own homeworld.”

A revenge attack, in other words. It is, after all, what he’d be thinking of were their positions reversed. And though the greatest threat – _that woman_ – is dead, he wouldn’t put it past the others to try something.

“We would be grateful for any intel you have to offer.” Possibly the intel-swap will have to go both ways, as Kolya may know a thing or two that the Atlanteans currently don’t.

He did, after all, get _somewhere_ with that Moiran woman before things went sour.

“I will ensure your people have all the relevant information on the Moiran people as soon as possible. It is already being compiled. I will also ensure they know how to create their own Electromagnetic Pulse Generators to detect their... cloaking.” The enemy of my ally really shouldn’t be allowed to attack me by proxy.

“That will be of great help. No doubt our scientists will want to gain experience with it.” And likely play around with it. Kolya wonders if he can get Jerran involved – partly because he wants close contact with _any_ kind of anti-Moiran operation, and partly because he does, in fact, trust the man to get it right.

Plus, he’d prefer less reason to run into Ladon Radim again so soon – because _he_ has been behaving oddly of late. More so than usual.

Weir nods. “Would you like me to set up a video link, or shall I get Doctor Beckett to prepare you to travel back?”

“A video link would be preferable. I would like to report in as soon as possible.” Which is true. But it also covers the fact that he really, really isn’t ready to leave Rodney just yet – even if he realises that talking to _Cowan_ with Rodney asleep on top of him might not be the best idea in the world.

“I can have the link arranged in minutes,” she says, but then looks at Rodney. Because that won’t look at all convinc- official... gathered... considered... those things. At all. Although possibly they could set it up to keep him out of shot, she really doesn’t think it’s a particularly good idea.

“Would you like me to arrange a call-in time with your people and inform you of it?”

“I would,” Kolya replies, detecting the tact in Weir’s voice and being oddly grateful to hear it. “Besides, I doubt your Doctor Beckett will be letting me out of here any time soon…” ...and calling Cowan from a medical bay? Also not what he wants to do. Kolya is always opposed to showing weakness – but trebly so when it comes to his boss.

“All right. I will inform you as soon as it is organised. I will also bring a copy of our report on the Moirans for you and Rodney to look over at your earliest convenience, in case you can give us any additional information.”

Pause. “And in the meantime... is there anything I can do for you?”

Additional information. Yes. Kolya knows why Weir is being careful about _that_ point – because the additional information Kolya has to give comes only from one source: the Moiran leader. And despite knowing what, on one level, these Atlanteans are **really** capable of, he also knows that they are... less accepting of his own methods of information retrieval, for the most part.

So in response to this, he nods. He will share what he learned – even though there isn’t a lot of it – and the Atlanteans can take it as they wish.

“No,” he answers, calmly. “Nothing else.”

But he does, however, give Weir the kind of look which means he thinks she has more to say – and if so, he wants her to say it.

“Are you sure?” she asks, head tilted, eyebrow arched. “Any request you have – within reason, of course – you can ask either me, or Doctor Beckett, and we’ll do what we can to arrange it.”

Because she isn’t going to broach any issue like human rights and emergency sanctions when she isn’t sure of her own stance, anyway. And certainly not with someone so clearly not bothered by the concerns she is.

“If that’s all, I should let you rest and go back to setting Atlantis back on her feet.”

Kolya nods. “I will of course keep that in mind.”

He will. But right now, there really isn’t anything - at least, that he’s prepared to ask Weir for. Even to see the look on her face. Tormenting former-enemy-now-allied leaders under cover of vague diplomatic immunity and serious injury is _not_ allowed to become a new hobby.

“Thank you for coming, Doctor. No doubt we will be speaking again soon.”

“No doubt. Take care,” she says, sincerely, with a small – but real – smile. And then her eyes drift down to the sleeping Rodney, who has barely stirred throughout the whole exchange. She’s not entirely surprised, as she knows he hadn’t slept well even before Kolya arrived, and this is likely the first real rest he’s had in days.

At least he doesn’t appear to be dreaming of anything bad.

“Take care of him, Commander,” she says, suddenly and impromptu. “You mean a lot to him, and he means a lot to everyone here.” And then she’s ready to leave – simply waiting for anything he might want to say before she goes.

“I know,” Kolya answers, surprising even himself at how intensely sincere his tone is – not because he doesn’t mean what he’s saying, but because there is simply no hesitation in letting Weir see that fact. “And I will. If you trust nothing else about me... trust that.”

And then he’s quiet, the hand on Rodney’s shoulder tightening almost imperceptibly, content with the silence.

And then, without another word, Elizabeth is gone. There is much, much more to do.

And, as ever, no time in which to do it.

First: Cowan.

***

Ulterior motives, whilst obviously underhand in nature, have a helpful way of seeming less so if you happen to be doing something entirely reasonable as well. This is precisely what John Sheppard reminds himself of when he asks Rodney to come up to the gateroom to discuss recent events in the post-Moiran cleanup.

The man _is_ chief scientist, after all. And as such, he should be involved.

“...so it looks like most of the city is back to normal, now, though one of the labs is still a mess. You might want to get a look at that, actually – s’possible the Moirans were trying to hack the database at some point during the siege.”

Work work work. Work is easy. And when he runs out of things to say, it’ll leave him no choice but to mention the _other_ thing.

“Yes, yes, I’ll look at it. Although I can probably do a lot of it remotely, anyway, and I did some checks while they were here, too.”

Rodney is somewhat more curt than he has been of late. It’s possible the alien invasion and the interruption of his... consultations... and then interruption of his recuperations have somewhat soured his mood. “And in the meantime Radek can look things over, too. I know, he’s not quite me, but he is a competent scientist.”

High praise from Rodney McKay.

Yes. All good. And... damnit, that pretty much covers everything. Everything except...

“...There’s one other thing,” Sheppard goes on, the shift in his tone likely evident, though thankfully not glaringly obvious. “It’s a little... different.” Oh, wonderful, John. Talk round the issue instead of dealing with it. He kicks himself mentally, and ploughs on. “I need to talk to you about the current... arrangement. About your relationship with the commander.”

Rodney goes suddenly very, very still. And the guards go up, visibly, in his eyes. Although ‘guards’ is a misleading term, because it’s rare that he ever manages – or even tries – to hide what’s going on beneath.

“Yes?” he asks, in a remarkably too-level voice.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” Sheppard says, in what he hopes is a tactful voice – tact being easier when the cause of one’s tactlessness isn’t around. “But I’m... concerned.”

Putting this into words _really_ isn’t easy. “...I’m concerned that he’s influencing you in ways you don’t realise.”

“Oh. Ways I don’t realise being what? I haven’t noticed I’m gay and sleeping with the secret service?” If Rodney sounds somewhat scornful, it’s because he is.

“No,” Sheppard replies, biting down a certain amount of... bile at this. “That part is not in doubt. I just mean... Look. This isn’t easy for me to say, y’know. But I’m worried what you’re feeling is something other than it seems.”

Pause. Breath. “You know about Stockholm Syndrome, right?”

From the way Rodney’s entire demeanour suddenly changes – oh yes, he knows about it. His eyes go darker, if it were possible, and his body language is all of a moment... much more aggressive, passive-defensive, perhaps, than it normally is.

“Don’t you think I thought about that? And I don’t really think it’s that much of a problem, seeing as he wouldn’t even **talk** to me, for the most part, and if anything he was more unhappy about what was happening than I was.”

Which is when... Rodney starts pacing. Like a caged animal. Back and forth. “This isn’t just some... survival thing. Nothing even happened until we were safe. And neither of us... it isn’t like that, okay? And even if it is, why should it matter? He loves me. And I love him.” Arms folded. Chin up. Trying not to yell.

Oh, bad move, John. He really isn’t trying to pick a fight – though you could be forgiven for thinking otherwise. His own posture is a little too defensive.

“I’m not tryin’ to tell you things are one way or another,” Sheppard insists, trying to keep his own voice level. “I just want to be sure that you’re as... aware of things as you ought to be. And if nothing else... we both know what the man is... and whether you like that or just accept it isn’t the point here – it’s whether you’re properly _aware_ of it that’s important.”

He doesn’t need to pace too. He doesn’t. “Just ’cause he’s not following the conventional... methods or whatever... doesn’t mean he still isn’t _doing_ it.”

All of which really isn’t that clear... though Sheppard rather fears Rodney will get the point anyway.

“When I first met him, he’d just shot two of our men dead. And then he nearly killed me, and Elizabeth, and had me tortured for information about you, the city, and my plans to save it. And he’s never been anything less than entirely honest and open about what he does and believes – not that the guns and the knives and the bleeding didn’t give it away fairly early on. So yes, I think you can say I am aware. I have the scars to prove it. I can show you them, if you want.”

All this said with the slightest edge of hysteria, which Rodney is trying so hard to keep in.

“Maybe he isn’t doing it in the traditional sense. Maybe **I** was even doing it. Maybe I even wanted and needed him to. War makes for strange bedfellows, Colonel. And... really... if it makes us both happy, who cares if it is a case of survival insurance? If both parties get what they want and need, just because it happened in a case of great stress shouldn’t invalidate what’s happened. I need him. And I love him. And... I’m marrying him, anyway, so this entire conversation is about a lifetime too late.”

And. Oh. But now he’s bright red in the face. And wondering exactly why in the hell he thought it would be a good idea to say that aloud.

Maybe he needed to. 

“If you can’t accept that, or understand that, it’s okay. But I would like you to... respect it. It’s what I want, and it’s what I need, and I’d like my... best friend to be happy for me.”

Any reaction Sheppard might have made at all this is stopped squarely in its tracks by _that_ declaration – and with it comes a noticeable pause, a point where everything halts to allow for the re-writing of reality. Or something close.

“You’re _what_?” John exclaims, hands dropping to his sides in shock. “I... look, I understand your argument, really, I do... but have you even considered the possibility that he might have some ulterior motive in askin’ you to... to do something like that?”

“ **I** asked **him**!”

This is all Rodney says. Although his eyes beg John to understand, even though he somehow knows he won’t.

Sheppard was not exactly expecting _that_ response – and it shows. He stares a little too much, trying to work out which part of this surprises him the most.

“You...” he says. “Oh. I see.”

So. One of his closest friends has just proposed to the man who tried to kill them all. And people wonder why Sheppard finds this so difficult to accept.

“I... Elizabeth must have told you. I watched him die. It wasn’t him, but I still watched him die. And then I nearly killed him for killing himself. I’ve... I’ve missed him every single day we’ve been apart, and I haven’t ever stopped wanting him here. And then... when I saw how much the thought of losing him... I’m not going to let something like death screw this up, when either of us could die any day. When the whole galaxy could buy it any day. I love him. And I want to be around him. And if that makes me sick and desperate, or twisted, or... whatever... in your eyes or in reality... I don’t really see why I should care. This... is what I want. And I think I’ve earned the right to have it.”

Oh yes. John knows about _that_ little incident. He’s still trying to deal with the fact that his initial reaction included a rather strong sense of relief that Kolya _didn’t_ get himself killed – a realisation that utterly knocked him for six when he became properly aware of it.

He tries to tell himself that it was diplomatic relief. The only thing worse than the man alive would be the man dead. And so on.

“I’m not telling you that you shouldn’t have what you want, Rodney,” John insists. “I’m just... trying to make sure that you’re certain of what you have. That all of this... is as real as you want it to be.”

That _he_ isn’t playing some sick game with your head. Which always remains a possibility... though after what he saw during the recent siege, even Sheppard is starting to doubt that, now.

“You don’t know him like I do,” Rodney says quietly. “No one does. And... trust me. I know I’m not really the best people-person around, and I know this whole... everything… must look stupidly unlikely... but... I know. Don’t ask me to tell you how, but I know. This isn’t some weird, twisted coup. This... is alliance. In every sense of the word. And... I only hope one day you’ll trust him at least half as much as I do. Because... it’s true.”

I don’t want it to be, Sheppard is trying to say. I want it to be something else, anything else, because _that_ I can react to. This... this is different, because – all other factors aside – Rodney is one of his closest friends, and he does want to be able to be happy for him.

It’s just difficult when it also entails being happy for _him_.

“No,” Sheppard says, equally quietly, “I don’t know him like you do. I know him like _I_ do. So you can see why I’m actin’ a little... concerned.”

“If... if you’d been there... you’d understand. This... is more than just... that. And believe me, neither one of us wanted it to be true for a very long time. But. He killed people. So have you. Admittedly you haven’t ever killed anyone you were trying to get information from, to the best of my knowledge, but... trust me. This isn’t just some ploy for information, or... extended torture. And maybe in time you’ll see. I want you to.” Rodney’s big, soulful blue eyes fix John with a thoroughly needy stare.

Because he does. Need him to know.

“And if for some reason I’m wrong and this isn’t what I think it is, I promise you can be the first to say ‘I told you so’. Which is a good bet for me because I know you never will.”

“Believe me, Rodney, I wish I could see. Honestly.” And Sheppard does – on a strange but very real level. To have some reassurance about all this, to know that Rodney _is_ right about everything, would be... welcome. Even if it would entail having to accept certain things about certain people that he’d rather not deal with. That would still be better than... not knowing. Not trusting. Thinking the things he thinks.

And Rodney... can only sigh in frustration. Which is when he realises that right now, his automatic response to this kind of emotional stalemate with Kolya would be... rather a) different b) more violent and c) more... intimate than anything he could do right now to John.

Amazing how irritating it can be to find yourself suddenly stripped of your major emotional coping mechanisms.

“So.”

The urge to say ‘so what?’ is strong. John is, however, smart enough not to.

“Well,” he states, instead. “I think that about covers everything I wanted to discuss.”

“So you’ve finished dissecting my lovelife, then?” If Rodney sounds snarky, it’s with reason.

“Apparently,” John answers, dryly.

He doesn’t say any more, though, lingering where he is in case Rodney plans on saying anything else. Because, despite everything, he... knows he should listen if that is so.

“Right. Well. If the painful interrogation is over, I have work to get back to, and a fiancé too.”

And oh. But that wasn’t a calculatedly evil move at all.

Because a certain colonel needs to look in a goddamn mirror before he tries flinging mud. As it were.

“Let’s hope that it is,” Sheppard says – before he turns, fully intent on stalking off.

Maybe he can go find Ronon. Or Teyla. A decent sparring match might do him a world of good.

...If he knew just who he sounded like right now, it’s probable that John wouldn’t be too happy about it.

Oh, why are other people so hard to live with? Rodney’s becoming increasingly disillusioned with their existence. He makes a frustrated noise and slams shut his laptop (internally wincing).

Fine. Right. Well.

Time to go back to someone who **doesn’t** think his happiness is a bad thing...

***

Acastus Kolya generally has no problem with being left on his own for some time. Usually, he’d take the opportunity to do one of a number of things – though, alas, virtually all require that he either be in his bunker or, at the very least, able to move around a lot.

Right now, he can do neither. And when he has to fall back on contingency distractions, other people tend to regret it. He’s tried, several times, to engage Doctor Beckett in conversation – but without success. It’s possible they simply don’t have corresponding interests... beyond a certain amount of physiological knowledge, which rarely has the same application.

Consequently, Carson is now avoiding the good commander, who is lying propped up in bed, idly playing with his own knife and thinking rather a lot.

Rodney is looking very much like he’s coping in a way that looks very much like he is not, in fact, coping, but is openly trying to make it look like he is. He nods at everyone visibly, then walks over to the bed and smiles.

“Hey.”

Rodney McKay is a welcome sight at the best of times. Right _now_ , he looks rather like salvation on legs. Amongst other, slightly less repeatable things...

“Rodney... I’m glad you’re back.”

Very, _very_ glad.

Rodney smiles wonkily. A little worried, but honest. And he’s really rather relieved to be back here and away from the panic and the bustle and the fixing and the... other things. And he’s most certainly not feeling at all doubtful at all.

“I’m glad I’m back too,” he says. And dances from foot to foot a little. And then pats him somewhat awkwardly on the arm. And... yes. Then manages to take his hand – his free hand – and squeeze it. Gently, though. In case it hurts.

“You feeling any better?”

Kolya tightens his fingers around Rodney’s, watching his face, trying to gauge what the man has likely been doing before he gets as far as asking.

“A little,” he answers. “I think the painkillers are starting to work more – either that, or prolonged exposure to these doctors of yours is numbing in its own right.” He smiles slightly, pulling Rodney’s hand a little closer so as to stroke his wrist – sensing that something isn’t quite right and wanting to soothe him from the start.

Rodney snorts. “Carson? Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s weird with everyone. And also, he’s even more of a g— he’s very... civilian at times.” And from the way Rodney just managed to say... ‘civilian’... it’s clear there’s a lot invested in that statement.

“We’ll get you out of here as soon as possible. Well. If you promise to let me look after you properly, that is.” He turns his hand more so he can rub his fingers in the webbing between Kolya’s. “Before a war is declared. By any of us three.”

This earns him a smile. “I would be rather in favour of letting _you_ look after me,” Kolya answers. “After all... _someone_ has to keep me distracted whilst I am in this condition... and I can think of no better candidate.”

Plus, if Rodney takes him off and... distracts him... it will stop him thinking about how long he’s going to have to wait before he can fight something again. If nothing else, he’s fairly confident that he hasn’t fully come down from the Moiran-related adrenaline high, and as such should likely not be allowed to even _think_ about weaponry of any kind.

Despite earlier straddling him, threatening him, proposing to him and falling asleep on him. Rodney is struggling with a lot of self-consciousness having this conversation with him, now. Even though there are no immediate eavesdroppers, and this conversation is so much more socially acceptable than the one before.

He pauses. Thinks. Gently holds his face, leans in, and kisses him slowly: a long, drawn-out press of lips intended to empty the distance put between them some more, and reassure his partner. Who he is aware must be hating being here right now. And who he feels oh so very responsible for getting here in the first place.

“Anything you want... that I can do and/or get, of course. Anything you ask, it’s yours,” he says, unconsciously echoing Elizabeth before with a slightly broader spectrum, and also with his nose against Kolya’s, and his stomach and his heart swapping places on a frequent basis.

“What I want... is distraction. And soon. Otherwise, diplomatic relations may take a... turn for the worse.”

Which is probably a threat to Doctor Beckett’s wellbeing... though the commander likely wouldn’t hurt him _much_. Just... emphasise certain things.

Kolya strokes the back of Rodney’s head, oh-so-glad to have him close again, fingers trailing lightly, gently, the action of a man in no hurry. And who really does feel somewhat better already, after nothing more than one kiss.

“Give me a moment or two alone with him,” Rodney says, letting that trail... as do his fingers. “And I’ll see what I can do. Don’t kill and eat anyone while I’m gone.”

Kolya arches an eyebrow. “I already told you... the eating-people thing was merely one of Cowan’s twisted rumours. The man has a sick understanding of how far propaganda should go.”

And then some.

“Yes, well, you’ve been left on your own in the infirmary... god knows what that’s done to your head.”

It might, even, be a joke.

Rodney kisses him again, then stalks off to find Carson. Really, sometimes, there are similarities between the couple that you wouldn’t have thought were there and probably stoutly denied and denied (if you were a Colonel-shaped object).

But there’s some talking. And loud talking. And pointed discussing. And a very unhappy looking medic, who shortly after follows Rodney out to Kolya’s bed.

“Right. How soon do you want to go?” Rodney asks, rubbing his hands together.

Kolya waits. And listens. And is soon smirking rather proudly, waiting to see how all of this unfolds and enjoying a moment of... slightly twisted pleasure at having provoked it. It’s possible that the longer he spends out of action, the more he will go looking for opportunities to provoke _other_ such moments.

When Rodney comes back, the commander makes no effort to hide the smirk, deliberately flashing his lover an impressed look.

“As soon as possible,” he answers.

Rodney’s hands clap together. And he spins on his heels - military style - to look at Carson. Whose hands are in his white labcoat pockets. Oh, this is clearly something Rodney’s been good at for a while - intimidating medical staff. Usually about himself. And if he’s showing off a little now... it’s likely not consciously so.

“How about now?” Rodney asks, and then turns to Carson to add, before he can get the words out, “And I want your next words to be ‘Yes, of course, Doctor McKay, I’ll go arrange it and have the relevant supplies sent to your room and a quick but unnecessary briefing prepared’.”

“Rodney...”

“Carson?”

Carson sighs. “I’ll go get ye your things... But I still think it’s a bad idea...”

“Trust me, Doctor Beckett, I am... very grateful for your understanding.”

It’s amazing how the commander can make that sound like a threat. But he can.

Then Kolya looks to Rodney, still smiling broadly - expression suddenly warm. “What would I do without you?”

“Get rapidly very bored,” Rodney points out. And then he grins. “We’ll bust you out in no time...”

And then he’s looking pointedly at Carson again, who mutters an imprecation and walks out the room. Rodney winks at Kolya... and then follows him.

Oh no. It won’t take long at all. Not with the pair of them working on the medical staff.

Sometimes the most unlikely alliances are the most... remarkable.

Kolya waits for Rodney to come back again, swinging his legs to the side so he’s sitting on the bed instead of lying on it. And then he’s still, quiet. Poised.

It is possible, however, that he’s playing with his knife again - though this time, it’s simply too deliberate to be anything but.

And then the fight is all over, and the relevant things are done, and all that remains is for Rodney to come back out looking rather smug, lay his hand on Kolya’s shoulder, bend to kiss him slowly, lightly and gently, and say, “Let’s go. You still haven’t properly seen the place you came here for.”

And if everyone can hear that in the near distance... well.

He doesn’t give a flying fuck.

Kolya smiles, hand on Rodney’s jaw as they kiss... opting not to comment on the other implications of _that_ little statement.

“Then show me. All of it. Because this time... I’m not going away.”

And that fact? Is everything.

Just as Rodney is about to say something, a harassed, blue-shirted man with somewhat eccentric hair bustles in.

“Rodney! Oh. Hi,” he then says, with some sudden impulse of politeness - though the greeting appears to be directed at everyone who isn’t Rodney, and is blanket courtesy before he goes back into his slightly energetic tirade.

“...Yes, Radek?”

“I just wanted to tell you... all seem to be working to more or less full standard now. Only one... ah. Problem. I would not mention normally but in this case it seemed.... how you say... apt.”

“Yes, Radek?” This time, slightly less patient. Slightly more exasperated.

“Is just I though you might want to fix it for... Commander, here. It is teleporter by your room. Is not working so well. I didn’t want you to get stuck.”

At this remark, Kolya manages to remain textbook-impassive - which is an impressive feat, because deep inside, he is smirking a great deal. Amazing how the biggest problem is not the damage caused by the invading, mindreading, shape-changing aliens... but the reunion... activities... which preceded it.

Ironic, really.

“What? That should be....” Rodney looks somewhat ruffled, and only just manages not to point out that the changes he’d made to the teleporter weren’t meant to be serious at all, and that any moron could work out how to wire it back into working after a brief period of inactivity for... aforementioned other activities.

“Right. Right. I’ll take a toolbox with me when I take him home. Now. Any more emergencies, or can I **finally** go to my room?”

And oh. It’s been a long time the universe has waited to hear one Rodney McKay say something quite like that.

And how did he just know he’d end up having to fix that lift sooner rather than later? Well. Just that lift to fix, and finally he can start properly having the holiday he deserves.

With his fiancé.

Well. It’s one way to romance a guy.


End file.
